Follow You
by flarsanzian
Summary: Every teenager has their rebellious stage. Unfortunately, Renesmee's just had to kick in while her car literally crashed a raven-haired human nomad with a flying broom. "You're serious? You want to go with me?" She was sure that he was expecting her to back down. "Anywhere but home."
1. Chapter 1 - Not A Kid

**Summary:**

**Every teenager has their rebellious stage. Unfortunately, Renesmee's just had to kick in while her car literally crashed a raven-haired human nomad with a flying broom. "You're serious? You want to go with me?" She was sure that he was expecting her to back down. "Anywhere but home."**

**Words: 4864**

**Rated T – some cursing, but light themes and no lemons.**

**Pairing: Harry/Renesmee Jacob/?**

**Author Notes:**

**Both Renesmee and Harry's POVs, probably Chapter 1 – RPOV, Chapter 2 – HPOV, Chapter 3 – RPOV, and so on. I've read that writing in multiple povs throughout the story isn' t a good thing to do, but I'd like to write the way I want it to be.**

**For the****Firework, Magic and Destiny,****please don't kill me! D: Er—I can explain this. Writer's block kicking in, and this plot bunny just hopped into my head instead. I'll try my best to keep both updated, and hopefully entertaining. I can't promise both of the stories can be updated fast—I'm a rather slow writer, I admit—but I give you my word that I won't ever abandon it. I swear, I actually am writing it right now!**

**This idea just **_**has **_**to get out of my head.**

* * *

**Thank you for LadyLiterary for betaing this chapter!**

* * *

**Chapter 1 – Not A Kid**

* * *

"RENESMEE CARLIE CULLEN!"

Renesmee's eyes snapped open. From the cold chill creeping up her neck, she could guess what was going to happen next. However, Renesmee bravely chose not to respond. She stared into the wide eyed blue eyes in front of her, her hands were still connected to his. They were both nervous as hell, their breath visible in the cold night air as they breathed hard. If one wanted to picture this moment, it would look romantic, if you could ignore the loud thud that kept getting louder and louder.

Renesmee couldn't decide what to do, really. She could completely stop, running through the window of the third floor of Forks High School and act innocent, even though she was already busted. Or she could continue, which was the same thing as begging to be slashed with fury. Both would cause volcanoes to erupt, and option one wasn't that appealing to her.

The blonde before her stuttered. "Nessie—I think it's—"

"I know."

The blonde, Jamie, looked even more panicked. "I think we should—we should just go home."

She narrowed her eyes at him in distaste. Thank God he didn't choose option two, which would include kissing this coward. Anyone who didn't have balls had no place on her list. Apparently, the little show he made at the prom was nothing but a stunt.

The door opened with a loud _bang_, revealing a beautiful, brown-haired woman standing alone, arms crossed her chest in a regal manner. Her eyes shone dangerously with silent anger under the moonlight.

Her lips were barely moving. "Follow me."

Renesmee, instead of getting cold feet the way she used to, now felt anger boiling in his head. "No."

Bella Cullen looked taken aback at this. She walked a few steps closer to her daughter. Renesmee stayed silent but stared back challengingly, paying no attention to Jamie, who took a few steps back.

"Excuse me?"

"I said—"

A nervous laugh interrupted her from the back of the room. "Er—I think I should get going. Nice to meet you, Mrs. Cullen."

Renesmee had never felt so humiliated in her life.

Cursing in her head as Jamie quickly left, she stared defiantly back at her mom, refusing to appear weak.

"And now he's gone."

Renesmee didn't miss the smugness in her mom's voice, but she replied quietly. "Your point?"

Her mother turned, commanding her to follow her. The disobedient part of her screamed for her not to, but the small, rational and cold part whispered for her to follow.

With a sigh, she decided to go with the whisper.

* * *

"I TOLD YOU NOT TO DO THAT!"

Loud screams had been erupting from the Cullens residence for hours now. It was probably a good thing the house was isolated, without nosy neighbors surrounding. The pleasant, green forest was supposed to be able to calm them, but it had no such effect today. Quite the opposite, actually, the green was really starting to sicken her.

"I CAN ASSOCIATE WITH WHOEVER I WANT TO!"

"THINK, RENESMEE, THINK!" Bella shouted in rage. "Didn't you see how cowardly he was? It was humiliating, admit it!"

"That's not the point. You know it's not! You're always mad when I go out with a guy!"

"Then why do you keep doing it? You know I'll be mad and you still go for it? WHY?"

"Because it's unfair! Why should I isolate myself? One would think being half-vampire has a lot of benefits, but apparently the title gives me nothing but a cage!"

Bella opened her mouth to shout back, but instead took a deep breath. "Then you do realize you're half-vampire? And that they're human?"

"Don't play that card with me again!" Renesmee shouted. "Honestly, you're such a hypocrite! You think I don't know about you and dad? At least I don't have a whole freaking newborn army because of my crush—"

Bella looked extremely offended as she opened her mouth to retaliate, but stopped when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Edward was intervening, his eyes much calmer than Bella's, his voice steady. "Renesmee, please, we want you to understand. It's much harder than before. The Volturi has been keeping an eye on us. They've been looking for an opening—they're waiting for it. And not just exposure either. I won't be surprised if they created a havoc if you ever, unintentionally or not, implied our secrets to the mortals."

The rational part of Renesmee's brain admitted that it made sense. But what came out of her mouth was completely the opposite. "I DON'T CARE! Do you know what it feels like to be me? You guys had each other when you were in high school, but I'm alone! I repeat; I AM ALONE!"

"Well, you have us, Nessie," Rosalie intervened in a soothing voice.

Renesmee took a deep breath to stop herself from snapping at Rose. "And I'm grateful for that. Honestly. But I'm a teenager—can't you cut me some slack?"

Esme's hand was suddenly on her hair, calming her a bit. But she couldn't keep a clear head when she saw the opposing expressions of the others. Especially Jacob, who sat quietly in the corner, casting her disappointed glances as if she had broken his favorite car.

"You do understand that what I want is normal, right? I don't take drugs, I'm not into crazy parties—all I want is a normal relationship!"

Carlisle rubbed his temples. "We won't mind, Nessie. We really don't, if you actually love that boy. Once you can take the consequences of loving someone and know you will stay with him for the rest of your life, then you have my—our permission."

It was not common for Renesmee to oppose Carlisle, but at that moment it felt like nothing else mattered more. "And how do you expect me to find him? You think I would know that with one glance? You think I'd find someone and fall in love in the first sight and need them for the rest of my life? You seriously expect me to believe in those things?"

Renesmee didn't understand the awkward silence that followed because she knew what she said was true. Unable to bear her emotions, she hollered, like a whining child—she would admit that much—but her anger was getting the better of her, "FINE! I DON'T CARE!"

As she stormed off the room, she could feel the anger radiating in her childish stomps on the stairs, which made a part of her feel ashamed. Why did everything have to be like this? She remembered what it felt like to be born into the Cullen house as a half-vampire. It felt nice, being the center of every attention. The feeling of being loved by so many people was what she loved, but as time passed, the way they gave her attention changed. Her way of seeing things changed—everything changed. Nothing was ever the same anymore—even Uncle Emmett, who would always defend her no matter what mischief she had done, now stayed quiet in the back of the room.

Jacob was even worse. He used to be her favorite person in the world—right after her mother and father, that is—but as she grew, the way he treated her changed. The way he stared at her, as if she was expected to do something, but was too young to understand it. She didn't understand anyone this house, anymore. Why wouldn't they just say it out loud? How could she guess what they wanted? Was she not worth it? Was she expected for great things?

She wiped the tears swelling in her eyes roughly. Why was it so easy to cry? It was embarrassing—why couldn't she be like mom? Mother was always unemotional when she was angry and showed no signs of weakness when she was opposing someone. Why couldn't she? Every time Renesmee got into fights, no matter how prepared or calm she was, she would always end up tearing up.

Renesmee took a paper from under her desk before pushing everything off the table. She sighed when she realized the pencil was pushed off with everything else. It was a common thing for Renesmee; drawing. When she was happy, mad, or intrigued, drawing calmed her in a way no one else could. Alice used to help her drawing since she was the artist of the house, but it had stopped long time ago when Renesmee chose to pursue teenage endeavors and left drawing in the dust.

She knew that the others could hear the sound of scribbling paper but she didn't let that get to her. She put pencil to paper and started drawing until her scribbles became a sketch of herself, laughing happily in the arms of a boy. Her bronze hair was waving madly in the wind, and her right hand tried to put a lock back behind her ear. She wore a simple blue shirt and jeans, while the guy holding her at the lavender field was wearing a formal green shirt and black trousers, letting his tie to be pulled by Renesmee's left hand.

The face of the guy, even though he was smiling, was not drawn yet. She really did not know who to draw as a model. None of the Cullens—heavens no. Drawing some cute random guy from her school won't do, either. Drawing celebrity stars—even though she had a little crush on Robert Downey Jr.—would feel too fake for her. In the end, after staring at the paper for a few minutes, she decided to leave the face at that.

Before she saved the paper, she stared at the picture of her blue shirts, smiling amusingly, before writing 'Not A Kid' on it.

She immediately put it in her drawer once she heard a soft knock on the door. She took a deep breath before saying, "Come in."

Much to her surprise, it was Emmett. His face, while remaining as goofy as he always was, was unreadable. Maybe this was how Emmett looked like when he was serious. Renesmee didn't know whether to laugh or to cry. "Want to go catch some bears?"

After some consideration, she shrugged, trying to appear indifferent. "Sure."

They said nothing as they ran into the forest. Renesmee felt her stomach twist. She was debating with herself what was wrong with everybody, but then again the problems might be in her. Never once she had thought that Emmett would ever talk to her like a stranger, nor had she ever thought her huge uncle would be capable of staying quiet. She was blatantly staring at him, half wishing him to turn and face her, half scared of what would happen next.

Renesmee had lost her appetite; not that she was thirsty anyway. She thought hunting would clear her head a bit, but instead it annoyed her more. It was the green. She was sick of the green.

Renesmee expected the silence to continue until they were home, but after she reluctantly finished her deer, Emmett finally spoke, "Renesmee."

Her eyes briefly gazed to her uncle, who was staring at her as he sat on a branch of a tall tree. The distance between them made her wary. "You're talking to me?"

Emmett smiled dryly at the ground. "I'm sorry for not being there, for awhile now."

Her eyebrows rose. "It's…fine. I'm more curious of the 'why'."

She recognized the expression that flitted across his face. The urge to tell something but being forbidden to, simultaneously. Even though she was annoyed that her family was keeping something away from her, she was grateful that her uncle who had wanted to approach her, and even mustered up the decency to apologize.

"It's okay if you can't tell me," She finally said.

The pained look on Emmett's face didn't go unmissed. "You deserve to know—you should've known.."

She grinned, feeling a little bit lighter now. She leapt onto the tree and gave Emmett a hug. "Thank you. For everything."

"You sound like you're going somewhere."

"Maybe I plan to."

"Renesmee."

She laughed even when she heard the warning in his voice. But when she did, she realized how long it had been since she'd genuinely laughed. Her heart felt a little warmer at the thought of someone sticking up for her. While she doubted he would help her in the occasional family fights, she really didn't mind the company.

"Uncle?" She said, after a brief silence fell upon them.

"Hmm?"

"Am I really that irritating?"

His loud, booming laugh echoed in the woods, scaring off all the birds around them. She stared at him, mildly annoyed, while Emmett guffawed like his life depended on it. He noticed the sour look on Renesmee's face and tried to speak, "I—sorry—you—"

She sighed, patiently waiting for Emmett to compose himself.

"Sorry," He cleared his throat. "But it was so—"

She sent him a warning glare. "If you laugh again, I'm leaving you."

"Fine, fine," The pout on a fully-grown man, not to mention a _huge_ man who happened to be her uncle, was irking her a bit, though she said no word about it. "I'm sorry. But what you said was hilarious. I mean, how can you feel that way? This family is all about you. And not just the family. Do I really need to remind you a whole vampire army was willing to fight for _you_?"

"Why does everyone keep bringing that? Yeah, sure. It was a huge event and apparently I was quite a charmer back then. But I've changed, you know? Everything changed. Everything feels so complicated now."

Emmett had a thoughtful look on his face. "I don't remember the last time I was a teenager. My human life is really fuzzy. But I do remember I used to rebel a lot…My father wanted me to do something important for the family funds instead of doing the 'useless dangerous thing', but I was so into hiking," He chuckled nostalgically. "So I snuck off a lot. It was when both of my parents died that I occasionally went hiking as a routine."

"And then you met Aunt Rosalie?"

"You forgot the important part; I was attacked by a bear. That was when I realized it, I guess. At some point at your life, you'll remember every annoying thing your parents tell you and admit that they were right."

Renesmee was now gazing the forest, refusing to look at Emmett. She really did not know what to say, or what to feel.

"Well, he's not a hundred percent right, though. I have Rosalie now."

She smiled softly. It did sound kind of sweet. Every couple in the family had fought so many obstacles and problems, and their relationships had survived it all. None of them went the smooth way, the going to high School and marrying your sweetheart cliché path. Well, her parents actually did it that way, but with the nomads, the newborn army and the Volturi, it made her point invalid.

In all honesty, she had no reason to feel insecure. Emmett's laugh was not intended; he'd laughed solely because he was sure of the absurdity of the idea of it. If someone looked at Renesmee's life, they would see the perfect, sweet life of a child who was like no other. But as the child grew, she became aware of more things and starting to crave different things all together. While logic stayed in her head, her temper wasn't helping. This kind of thinking often drifted in Renesmee's mind, more often when she was calmed after she had exhausted all her energy from being angry. The cold, clear head made her rethink everything, from how she could not deny that at least a part of things was her fault to the notion that she would change everything for the better.

Yet the same things kept happening.

* * *

"Nessie."

Renesmee turned around to find Jamie standing in front of her, holding what seemed to be a present. She shot him an unfriendly glower, and felt a little triumph as she saw his uneasiness. But then she started to feel uncomfortable when she realized how many curious eyes were staring at them.

"I'm sorry for the way I acted last week. And I'm sorry for being really late to apologize. I spent a week in my room and I really regret what I did. I know I should've acted different and I'm sorry I wasn't brave enough that day."

The look on his face was so sincere, his baby blue eyes staring at her with remorse in their eyes. Yet Renesmee still doubted the truth of his words. When she didn't answer, Jamie continued, "Please. I need you."

_Alright, this is way over the top, _Renesmee decided, getting annoyed by the excited whispers around them. Maybe this was his strategy? Declaring his apology in front of the crowd so she would be pressured to forgive him? And what was with 'I need you' crap? They didn't even know each other that much!

"Look, I—"

"RENESMEE!"

Renesmee's eyes widened as she saw Jacob walking towards them, his eyes shining with silent fury. He mouthed 'Go Home' softly; like he was talking to a child. Once again Renesmee felt anger rising in her.

"Your mom's waiting for you."

She didn't know what was happening. "And I'm heading there."

"Come on, I'll take you there."

"I can go by myself, thank you."

Jacob, whose back was now facing her, stopped. He slowly turned around, his face confused and hurt. Renesmee felt a short pang of guilt.

"This is your mom's order. You know what she'll say."

That was the last straw. Where was _her _Jacob? Her Jacob who'd always been there, the best big brother ever? Where was her Jacob who would stick up for her? She glowered furiously at the guy she thought she knew as tried to come back with a retort, but tears were starting to fill her eyes.

_Damn, it's coming again._

She would not appear weak, especially in front of Jamie and Jacob. With hot tears threatening to spill, she went to a last resort. Without thinking, she grabbed Jamie's arm roughly and pushed her lips onto his.

The kiss felt weird. Jamie was apparently happy with the turn of events, kissing her back. She frowned at the taste of tobacco, mentally puking. It was maddening, especially with her heightened sense of smell. His lips were soft, moving against hers, but in all honesty she felt nothing. She could feel the tears finally coming down, and she disguised wiping it with caressing Jamie's cheek.

She finally stopped and pulled back, breathing hard, before eyes connecting to Jamie's. He was looking rather smug, a smirk beginning to spread on his arrogant face. That was when everything sank in.

She just had her first kiss. Her first kiss, with a boy that disgusted her, only to prove her point to Jacob. Regret began to hit her like someone was slapping her, and she bit her lips anxiously. She felt strangely disappointed when she turned around to find Jacob wasn't there anymore.

The whispers began again, and she could not bear it. With a strangled voice, she said, "I…have to go home."

Renesmee ignored the voices that began to rise, the surprise on Jamie's face, and the cold feet she got as she headed home. She drove slowly, letting all the tears out before completely wiping them off her face. After checking her eyes in the mirror numerous times, she finally came out of the car. What she found there did not surprise her. Everyone was gathering in the main room, still as statues.

Carlisle broke the silence first. "Renesmee, we need to talk."

Renesmee stared at him. "I suppose. Where's Jacob?"

"He has…something to deal with."

Seeing no response from Renesmee, Carlisle continued. "I'm sure you know what we are here to talk about."

"Jamie. Me. Kissing."

A few snorts were heard, followed by a smack on Emmet's head. Carlisle cleared his throat. "Yes."

Renesmee sighed. "You're going to get me grounded?"

Bella looked uncertain before answering, "No."

"I'm sorry?"

Edward rubbed Bella's arms. "No. But we have something to tell you."

Renesmee gazed at the faces in front of her. She started to feel sick, a foreboding sign that whatever it is they were hiding from her, she wouldn't like it. "Okay."

"There was a treaty," Bella started. "Between the Cullens and the wolves. It said that the Cullens would stay out of the Quileute land, and were forbidden to _bite _any humans."

Renesmee frowned. "Didn't Dad bite you?"

Bella stared at Renesmee, her expression unreadable. "Yes. But because Jacob was supposed to be the _Alpha_—"

"The commander of the wolves," Renesmee nodded.

"—he renewed the treaty so the bite was considered an exception. However, the point of the treaty is to protect the tribe, and at that time, when you were still an infant, please don't get me wrong—"

Renesmee took a deep breath. "I was an unknown anomaly."

"Yes. You were considered a threat to the safety of the humans. That was why Jacob, Seth and Leah separated from the rest of them. The others did not agree to wait. But with three wolves switching sides, they managed to stay quiet, instead forming plans. But when they heard that I was dying while you were born, chaos broke out and—"

"I don't understand." Renesmee cut her. "Why—why—"

"Because something happened," Edward said, almost inaudibly. "Jacob—"

A new voice said, "I think that's enough."

Every head turned to see Jacob walking in from the back door. Rosalie growled a bit, Edward glared, and Bella buried her face in her hands.

"I don't think she's ready for this."

To Renesmee's surprise, Bella stood. "You are _not_ going to dictate whether we tell her or not."

Edward made no move to calm Bella, so Esme moved to her side, resting a hand on Bella's shoulder.

"Please don't take it personally. You can see it. She's not ready."

Rosalie laughed unpleasantly. "Please. You're just afraid it won't work."

"Rose," Esme warned. "Please, everyone, stay calm. It's best for us not to assume anything."

"Well, tell it to the know-it-all over there," Jacob didn't seem afraid by Bella's attack, but his eyes were challenging.

Renesmee didn't like this. "What's going on?"

"Waiting any longer will only cause more problems," Emmett said, causing the others to look surprised at his rather wise words. "She deserves to know."

"I'm with Jacob," Alice said. "He's right. It's not the right time. You're going to cause volcanoes here."

Jasper looked torn, but in the end, sided with Alice. "I want the best for our family," He decided. "Going hastily won't solve the problem."

"I think it's rather too late for this discussion, isn't it?" Renesmee commented sourly. "_She_'s right here, you know."

Renesmee's remark went unnoticed, as the arguments between the adults grew more heated. She let out a frustrated sigh, the angry banters around her started to sound like buzzing insects.

"A teenager's mind is a fragile thing," Carlisle uttered. "It is not wise to play with it."

Jacob's tone started to rise. "We're not playing with it, we're doing what's best for everyone."

"Everyone my ass," Rosalie sneered. "You think you're the only one who cares about her?"

"Well, I'm not going to let anyone get too hasty—too irresponsible..."

Bella looked furious. "Excuse me? I'm her _mother__!_"

"And I'm—" Jacob's voice trailed off. "And I'm..."

Jacob's falter caught Renesmee's attention. "And you're what, Jacob?"

Renesmee felt anger boiling in her head when the heavy silence suddenly fell upon everyone. _They talked about it as if she wasn't there—and then ignored her?_ She looked incredulously at every face in the room, before turning away, preparing to leave. When she reached the front door, she heard Jacob blurted out, "I _imprinted _on you!"

Renesmee stopped dead on her tracks. Her boiling anger turned cold—it felt like her brain had frozen and it was racing double speed to process what he had just said.

* * *

"_Jake?"_

"_Hmm?"_

_Renesmee was sitting in Jacob's lap, gazing at the lavender flowers around them. It was warm, she thought. She snuggled against Jacob's chest, getting sleepy. Her small body made it so easy to sleep there. Her eyes felt heavy, but a small question popped in her head._

"_Jake?"_

_Jacob snorted. "Are you going to sleep or not, Nessie?"_

"_Well, I have a question..."_

"_Go on."_

"_Why are you alone?" Renesmee asked. "I mean, Daddy has Mommy, Aunt Rosalie's got Uncle Emmett, and everyone else..."_

"_Well, it's a bit different for wolves," Jacob said, his eyes peacefully gazing at the calm, blue sky. "Do you know what imprinting is?"_

"_I heard Mommy and Daddy talk about it once or twice…"_

"_Well, imprinting is like the love of first sight, only stronger," He began. "Any other connection you have with other people shatters, or at least becomes secondary, and the only thing that matters is your imprint's happiness. Sam thinks the wolves imprint to pass the gene so that wolves' survive."_

"_Ah," Renesmee yawned, half paying attention. "I'm sleepy."_

_Jacob laughed. "Then sleep, Nessie."_

_Silence fell on them, but Renesmee spoke again, "Jacob?"_

"_Yeah?"_

"_Anyone's who you imprint on is going to be really lucky."_

_Jacob smiled softly, his eyes shining in brotherly love, before softly kissing Renesmee's forehead. "Sleep, Nessie. You need it."_

* * *

Renesmee came back to reality, her eyes wide. She didn't care that her face was probably going as white as sheet, the look of horror blatantly on her face.

"That's what happened," Jacob's voice was shaky. "I imprinted on you. When you were just born. That's why their attack was canceled. Because no matter what—"

"An imprintee is never to be harmed by another wolf," Renesmee found her lips moving unconsciously.

The room went silent, waiting for Renesmee to react. They were probably ready for any kind of outburst, but Renesmee stood still. She tried to speak but the words that came out were incoherent. Hot tears began to fill her eyes. She couldn't even think clearly. How could her best friend, her _brother_, the one who'd been with her since the day she was born—she didn't understand.

She didn't understand the sudden revulsion she felt against Jacob.

How could the family agree with this? Her parents? Didn't Jacob _love _her _mother_? How could he—how could they—

With her head completely blank, Renesmee grabbed a set of car keys and fled.

* * *

Renesmee never thought about the possibility of leaving her parents. She'd thought about leaving with the guy she was going to marry, but never this way. Not without hugging her family, crying with both joys and sadness, or at least a proper goodbye. Yet she didn't decrease her speed, moving further away from Forks.

Her car dashed across the road, her hands tightly closed around the wheel. It was close to midnight. She was the only one at the road and sped up, taking out her anger on the gas pedal. Even though her eyes had dried already, her brain still felt like a tangled mess of emotions. The rain definitely didn't help. She wanted to scream—she wanted to let all the frustrations building up inside her out, desperately wishing there was a reboot button somewhere in her head.

She couldn't even comprehend the absurdity of the situation. To sum everything up, she had been practically betrothed since the day she was born, to a man that used to fight for her mother's love. To a man she had always seen as a big loving brother and her best friend. Who would always there for her, no matter what kind of annoying thing she had done; and now the mystery had finally been unveiled. She didn't feel any content knowing that the secret had finally been revealed. All she felt was rage.

The worst part was that every member of her family _agreed _with it. Everything about her future was planned, and they all just sat there thinking, _how marvelous is that? _She wasn't able to choose anyone else she wanted, because—of _course—_her mother's almost-boyfriend had claimed her since the day she was born, and thus she was destined to be with him, her feelings unimportant. Caged in a box with Jacob holding the key. That was how she had unknowingly lived her whole life.

Her heart almost stopped when saw a figure in front of her. Her foot immediately switched to the brake, but it was too late. Eyes widened, she saw the figure's body crashed to her front window with a loud thud, before getting being thrown off by the force, flipping twice in the air, and landing harshly on the road approximately eleven meters ahead of her.

The engine finally stopped, after roaring in protest. The rain was coming down harder.

"Oh my God."

* * *

**That's it for now. No Harry at all, yeah, I know that. His POV will be on the next chapter though! And please for Team Jacob out there, don't see it as Jacob's bashing :/ Don't worry, I've got a plan for Jacob. And Ginny too. I'd already planned the major plot and the possible ending, but the middle is still meh. Please tell me what you think! Any kind of feedbacks is appreciated, but please be kind.**

**By the way, don't expect another chapter for the next two weeks-I'm going to be out of town.**

**REVIEW! :)**


	2. Chapter 2 - Your Dreams

**Whoa, huge thanks for everyone who reviewed: Sakurayuuki19, Marauder Neyo, Crystal the Dark Dragon, Aaron Leach, kemo9005, TheBeauty, Randomteapotofdoom, Weird'sMyName, blacklightninglove, FrostyNerd, jaz96min, LunaScamander17, gasacan90, amata0221, Penny is wise, Lord Mortensen, Sheened, A TwiHard88, Jason, xxEm'n'JJ4evaxx, Guest, gorly, Jopi and Arrancar Maiden.**

**Sorry it took a bit longer; life happens. I've got a lot to catch up at school and everything else. Hopefully you'll like this one!**

**Words count: 4642**

**DISCLAIMER : I own nothing. Except the plot.**

* * *

**Thank you for LadyLiterary for betaing this chapter!**

* * *

_Eyes widened, she saw the figure's body crashed to her front window with a loud thud, before getting being thrown off by the force, flipping twice in the air, and landing harshly on the road approximately eleven meters ahead of her._

_The engine finally stopped, after roaring in protest. The rain was coming down harder._

_"Oh my God."_

* * *

**Chapter 2 – Your Dreams**

* * *

The road, wet with puddles everywhere, was deathly quiet. The only thing that could be heard was a row of soft breathing and stable-sounded footsteps. The boy, his raven hair waving madly because of the wind, was alone. It was fortunate that he expected the wind to blow rather heavily, so he covered his body with black jacket, his scarf covering the lower half of his face. His forehead however, was visible, showing the famous lightning scar that never hurt anymore.

He had walked from the beginning of the road, sluggishly, letting his mind wander in nostalgia as he stared at the row of houses. Not exactly happy memories, yes, but it was the place he had grown up in. To quote his mentor, this was the place he had called home for so many years. He remembered every detail of the sight as if it was only yesterday. The last time he saw this house, he never thought he would see it again. Primarily because he merely thought that there would be no reason to come back. And moreover he didn't dare to hope to live long enough to visit.

A soft knock and a few seconds were all it took to see the face of the woman he had blood ties with, after two years apart. Petunia Dursley dressed properly tonight, as if she was going to meet Vernon Dursley's boss and spend the evening flattering them to boost her husband's career; not meeting the boy she had treated as a housemaid for so long. She had a polite expression on her face as she let him in, but she wasn't smiling. Inside, Harry found Dudley Dursley sitting in front of a fireplace—as unbelievable as it might seem—reading what seemed like a Law Enforcement book. His eyes gazed up to meet Harry's, before smiling a sheepish smile which Harry returned easily.

Harry considered pretending to be clueless and ask where Vernon Dursley was, but in the end, decided not to. He was sure that Petunia wouldn't appreciate it. Petunia had, after all, caught a glimpse of Harry at Vernon's funeral, even if Harry wasn't invited.

The three of them sat in a long silence for a while. Harry stared at the fire dancing in front of him; the sound of burning woods helped him to relax.

"How have you been, Harry?"

Harry should stop being so surprised when Dursley talked to him civilly, but old habits die hard. "It's been a blast, Dudley. How about you?"

"Quite good," Dudley smiled. "You removed your glasses? Decided to use lenses?"

"Actually, no," Harry chuckled. "I had a magical eye-therapy with the Head Healer for a few months. I figured it would be easier to do the job as an Auror without my eyesight becoming a nuisance."

"Cool," was Dudley's comment. "Funny, it doesn't bother me as it should."

Harry laughed a bit too loud at that.

"It's a bit hard since Dad is gone, but we'll make it through. I'm really glad we managed to get this house back. Too many memories..."

Harry snorted. "Too many memories indeed."

At that comment, Dudley casted a nervous glance at Harry. "Yeah—about that. You see, I realize that I haven't properly apologized—"

"It's alright."

Dudley's head snapped up in surprise. "What?"

"I said it's alright, Big D. It's in the past. Even though you were really, _really _too much of a git," Dudley winced at this. "I can see you've changed. Both of us had grown up, and I know that I would not be who I am now if you'd treated me any differently in the past. Not that I encourage bullying, though."

Harry felt glad that Dudley had the decency to look ashamed and remorseful. Dudley whispered a small thanks, which Harry returned with a smile.

The comfortable silence that fell upon them was broken with Dudley's chuckle. "Dad probably won't like it, but I've decided to have a serious career in Law Enforcements."

"I figured," Harry smirked good-naturedly as he glanced at the volume in Dudley's big hands. "I hope you make it. I was a Head Auror—sort of a Chief Police, I guess—for two years. Just quit, though."

"Really?" Dudley seemed genuinely curious. "May I ask why?"

"Tired of it. Just need a break, I guess."

Dudley nodded in understanding, and their little chat turned quite amusing as they talked about various topics, acting like a pair of long lost friends instead of two nemesis-turned-friendly-cousins. Harry noticed Petunia and realized she probably felt a little bit left out, but honestly, Harry wasn't sure if she really wanted to be in the conversation. She stayed quiet, glancing ever so often between Harry and Dudley. She once left her seat to serve them three cups of tea, but then sat back, still as a statue again.

It was at 10 p.m. that Dudley stood. "Sorry, Harry. I have a job interview to attend tomorrow. It was great to meet you again. And I mean it."

"I enjoy it too. And I mean it as well."

As Dudley walked out of sight, Harry stood awkwardly. Petunia had her eyes fixed on the fireplace, not even acknowledging Harry's presence. She didn't seem like she wanted to talk to him at all, which made him wonder that perhaps Dudley was the one who initiated their meeting, even if—God knows why—she was the one who contacted him.

"Perhaps I should leave—"

"Wait."

Harry stopped talking at that moment, staring at Petunia who was now standing as well. Her eyes stared at him, her face fixed with an unreadable expression. "I have something to give you."

"Okay." He replied, tense.

After a relatively long wait, Petunia came back with a timeworn container wrapped in blood red paper and tied with a small green ribbon. Harry stared at the gift he was handed to for a second, before awkwardly saying, "Uh, Christmas is still a few months away."

"It's not from me. Just open it."

So Harry did. He opened the box really carefully—it looked so fragile, so old. Inside were two scrolls. One was a parchment; the other was a letter with elegant writing on it.

_Dear Tuney,_

_Merry Christmas! How have you been? I'm sorry that I never visit any more, but the evil wizard I told you about is rising. I'm sorry. I really want to visit you, but James reckons it won't be safe._

_Harry is almost 5 months right now. __You know what his first word is? It's 'maa'! I couldn't describe how happy I felt—you should have seen James' face. He's trying to get me back by bribing Harry with new toys! Poor __H__arry ha__s been bugged with James and Sirius everyday—I sometimes worry he doesn't get enough of rest because of it, but he can't stop laughing once they do that. I love his laugh, Tuney. I think I now understand the way you look at Dudley when he was born. How is little Dudley? I really want the two of them to meet, but will Vernon accept? It is not that I consider him cruel, but you know how he is with our 'abnormality'._

_Things get dark so fast. James is still considering the Fidelius charm; a secrecy charm. If we really are going to use it, then things will get so complicated that it will be too dangerous to contact you. That is why I am including another scroll in this box. It is my wishes, Tuney. I've made my own bucket list—well, James put his here and there—you would not believe how many things I want to do. The probability of my list actually coming true is next to zero now. Before everything gets messier, I want someone to know what I have always wanted—my dreams._

_Would you mind sending your own bucket list? Who knows, maybe we could compete with one another. I know a bucket list doesn't work that way, but who cares, right?_

_Send my love to little Dudley!_

_Love, _

_Lilly_

Harry didn't know when the tears started to fall down his cheeks, but he found himself crying as he read the letter in his hands. It was his mother, writing to her sister, probably knowing that it would be the last letter she'd ever write for her sister.

"Take it."

Harry's eyes never left the writing before him. He wanted to, but how could he? "I—I can't. It's yours. She sent that for you."

"I know my limits, Harry," She said. "_You_ can make it come true."

Harry didn't care how messed up he probably looked like right now. He didn't bother to wipe the tears on his face. He whispered a hoarse "Thank you", loud enough for Petunia to hear. The letter was so beautiful. He could imagine his mother writing this with a small smile on her face, his father trying to peek and getting a smack on the head instead, and even Sirius and Remus laughing at them.

He frowned in confusion once he realized that the letter was almost wet—humid, so fragile that he could tear it with a simple wave. He was sure he didn't wet the paper.

Unconsciously, his eyes glanced up right to his aunt's teary eyes.

Harry swallowed the lump in his throat. "You—"

"You didn't just lose a mother that night, you know." Her voice sounded so loud in the silent room. "I lost a sister."

Upon hearing those words, Harry tackled his aunt in a tight hug. He didn't know what had gotten into him, nor did he care. He could feel his aunt's body shaking silently, before her own sob became audible. Both were then lost in grief and, for the very first time, feeling comfort in each other's support.

* * *

Days had passed since his meeting with the Dursley's. It was inevitable that said days were spent with telling his friends about his brand new plan. Their reactions varied from McGonagall's, "You deserve a break, Mr. Potter," to Draco Malfoy's "Why the ruddy hell are you telling me this, Potter?"

The worst part was telling his best friends. It was funny how best friends are supposed to be the ones you can tell everything to. Yet Harry found himself nervous facing Hermione and Ron, their look of disbelief making the situation even worse. His nervousness wasn't for nothing, though. After hours of arguing, Hermione agreed whole-heartedly to support Harry's decision and try to cheer him up with "Don't worry about Ron. He'll come around." which truthfully, didn't help much.

With his best mate reacting negatively, Harry thought it was normal to feel this anxious as he stood alone in front of the last Weasley's new apartment—a wonder considering how many reporters usually tried to meet with Holyhead Harpies' famous chaser. It was a surprise to Harry, really, when she decided to seriously go for the team. Even more surprising was when she had actually succeeded, bringing her team to a new light in the world of Quidditch.

Mentally punching himself to man up, Harry took a deep breath before knocking the door. "Ginny?"

The sound of treadmill inside immediately stopped. Harry held his breath as he waited for her response, but seconds passed and no reply came out. "Ginny, I know you're in there."

Another silence fell that Harry started to think she wouldn't answer. However the door opened with a soft click, which was enough for Harry to take that as an invitation.

Her flat remotely resembled her old room. It was of course, filled with Quidditch posters, but the room lacked the simplicity of it. Anyone could know from the first glance that this was not the same innocent girl's room anymore. His gaze turned to see Ginevra Weasley who was now sitting at a small bar, casually drinking a cup of pumpkin juice.

Harry didn't expect to see her completely the same with the way she used to be, but he couldn't say he wasn't surprised. Ginny's flaming red hair was wavier than before, and it was now down to her shoulder. Her skin was a bit darker and matched her features nicely. Her body also got fitter, obviously because she had a lot of catching-up to do as a new member on the team. Her brown eyes, even when not boring into his, looked more mature—typical war-hardened eyes.

Harry smiled. "How are you, Ginny?"

"What are you doing here?"

That stung. But Harry supposed he deserved it.

"What? Can't I visit?" Harry grinned, unabashed. "Nice room you got here."

Ginny shook her head. "What are you up to, Harry?"

"I just want to know how you're doing. That's all, a simple question."

"Well, you should've asked that simple question by, I don't know, two years ago?" She retorted angrily. When Harry made didn't respond, she took a deep breath. "It's been two years. I've heard the story, Harry. Yes, you didn't even tell me yourself. Surprising, isn't it?" Her laugh didn't have the joy Harry had been used to. "You shut out everybody. Even Hermione and Ron had a hard time trying to break in. I understand you're the Savior and all, but to completely shut everyone who cares about you—"

"You don't," Harry cut her bluntly. "You don't understand."

"Which part of it don't I understand?" Ginny erupted, her face turning red. "I don't have to actually live your life to understand what you went through. I understand that you needed time. I WAITED FOR YOU, YOU GIT. I waited every bloody day, giving you the time you needed, waited until the time you feel like you were ready. And then you finally came out. What was the first thing you did, Harry? You joined the freaking Aurors—"

"Ginny, I'm sorry," Harry rushed forward to soothe her—he never liked her tears. Merlin, he hated it. "I'm sorry, Gin. I'm—"

"Don't you 'Gin' me!" Ginny snatched her hand away from Harry's.

"And I still waited for you, you know? I waited since you were the new Auror kid, until you got promoted to the Head bloody Auror, and I couldn't even congratulate you—how could I? You disappeared every time I approached you. It took you two years to come to me? Why? What's gotten to your head, Harry? I couldn't understand your obsession with your work—not that I didn't like it—how, I can't—"

"I quit the job."

Ginny stopped talking. "What?"

"I quit being Auror," Harry elaborated. "I think I need a break."

Ginny stayed silent for a while, her brown eyes staring right into the emerald before her. "Why? You're a great Auror. Bloody hell, you're the Savior, Harry. A warrior. You've got everything it takes to wipe the remaining Death Eaters to its very core."

"I need a break, Gin," Harry told her with a weary smile. "I want my life back."

Yeah, it was beyond him how girls could change their minds so fast. Harry felt happiness blooming in his chest as Ginny's lips quirked up softly at him, her head getting closer. Her scent was overpowering his senses, causing his body to go limp, and all that left to do was to lean in as well, to make up for all the loneliness he had put on himself for the past two years—

Something clicked in his head that made him stopped midway. "Wait."

Ginny let out a frustrated chuckle. "I can't wait anymore, you git—"

"I have something to tell you."

This caught her interest. Harry held her hands, his forehead touching hers, as he continued, "Listen. The other day, the Dursley's invited me 'round to their house and we actually had a civil chat. When I stood to go home, Petunia gave me this letter—my mum's letter. It was touching, yeah, but what really got me was my parent's bucket list. I looked at it—it was a lot of things, all around the world. Do you know what's on the top? Find Atlantis. It was mad—absolutely barmy. And I," Harry took a deep breath. "I want to make it come true."

Ginny stared at him in confusion.

"I want to make it come true, Gin. I want to go all around the world—it's their legacy. Hell, I'm going to be twenty in a few months. I'm absolutely free, free from a job, free from any other pressure out there. There is absolutely nothing stopping me. Not a round of Death Eaters and nothing close to a set of rules. I think I'm going to go visit Japan's wizarding community first. No, it'll be better if I go to Hawaii first—it's my dad's wish, you know? Yeah, completely expected. But Mum wanted to fly around Washington without being seen—that one's weird, I figured. Maybe it has something to do with her fear of heights. Merlin, it's their dreams. I can do it. I _will _make it come true. It's going to be a blast—wait, Ginny? Why are you—"

"But I can't leave the Holyhead Harpies."

Harry's eyebrows furrowed, but his grin barely faltered. "Uh, what? What's all that got something to do with this?"

Ginny had an odd look on her face. "You're going alone?"

"Why, of course. And there's this insane thing my dad always wanted to do—"

Ginny let out a loud breath, her brown eyes staring at him as if he'd grown another head. Harry stopped talking already, realizing that something was not right. "Uh, Gin?"

"How bloody stupid," Her lips quirked up in a smile, but she didn't sound like she was happy at all. Tears started to fall again from her eyes. "I thought—I thought this day was going to be perfect."

"Gin, what—"

"Out, Potter."

Harry's heart almost stopped at the furious edge in her voice. Her eyes, so judging, stared at him as tears streamed down her face. "Merlin, Ginny. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. "

"But you always do," She whispered. "What's your plan, Boy Who Lived? Have me waiting here until you feel like it's okay to come back? I'm not the Girl Who Waited. I've done my waiting. If you're going to leave me again, then leave already."

"Gin, please—"

"Get out," She spat, holding the front of his shirt. Harry's mind could barely process what was happening as she pulled him up, not even bothering to use magic, and pushed him all the way to the front door, before slamming the door right in his face.

* * *

"No. Absolutely not, Harry."

"But, 'mione—"

"Don't 'mione' me on this one," Hermione sent him a death glare, snatching the bottle out of his hand. "No Firewhiskey before riding a broom."

Harry himself didn't know for sure why he was craving a Firewhiskey right now. The two of them, were, after all, sitting alone in front of Grimmauld Place Number 12, preparing for Harry's departure. Hermione was busy glaring at him while checking his small, Undetectable Extension charmed backpack. Her nagging sounded so loud in the silent night, yet Harry found a way to completely block it off anyway. Harry hollowly stared at the view of the town, his mind still a disheveled mess. It felt really different without Ron beside him, cracking a few jokes or simply being his silly self. Or Ginny smiling along side him, holding his hand encouragingly. Harry shook his head to brush the pain off his chest as his gaze left the empty spaces between his fingers.

"Girls," He finally muttered, burying his face in his hands. "How the bloody hell can you understand them?"

"I resent that," Hermione intensified her glare, completely oblivious to the fact that Harry didn't hear a single word she had said earlier. "From what Ginny told me, you're just being plain stupid."

"It slipped, okay?" Harry growled. He really, _really _needed a Firewhiskey right now. "I was so excited about the whole thing—"

"I know," Hermione's eyes softened as she embraced him tightly. "You're a stupid git. But you make up for it with a big heart," she skillfully ignored his snort. "I can't promise you she'll come around like Ron will, Harry. But I know how much she loves you. I know that you're starting to feel like you don't want to go, but go. Don't let her or Ron stop your dreams—stop you from fulfilling their dreams. Because you are right, it's their legacy. And she needs her time too. For now, it's your turn to wait."

"What if she gives up on me?" Harry croaked out. _Firewhiskey. Please._ "What if she find someone else? She doesn't even talk to me anymore. It's been weeks since I last saw her."

Hermione stared at him, her expression unforgiving. "It's no one's fault but your own. You tried approaching her again, but she's not ready to take it, Harry. Believe it or not, the way you treated Ginny for the past two years makes Ron seem like a gentleman."

If it was any other situation, Harry would've burst out laughing. "Yes, I was wrong, but she knows that I'm sorry. So how the bloody hell do I get out of this one?"

"Wait. That's all you have left now. You can try to ocassionally send letters to her, though I doubt she'll reply. As I said, it is now your turn to wait. She holds the cards now."

Harry's shoulder slumped in defeat. He didn't like what he heard from Hermione—the fact that Ginny could turn to another man in any second. Even worse was if a rival showed up, he wouldn't even be around to defend his woman and win her back. "Then I'll wait," Harry promised, determination shining in his eyes. "I will."

Hermione smiled. "Now, now, you got everything you need. Don't mess up with Essence of Dittany—it's specifically hard to get. I've also stuffed a bezoar here. And a few books, History of Magic, Hogwarts: A History, Charms for Charmers, Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them, A Guide For Wizarding World Travel—"

"Hermione, I think I get it."

She stared at him for awhile, before sighing. "Yeah, I think I'm just nervous. Be safe, okay? Here's my phone number."

Harry looked at her incredulously. "A phone number? Seriously?"

"Well, Seamus and I are actually developing a phone that works with magic, not electricity. I've been working on it for the past year but it's still a prototype, it was really hard to equalize the wave of magic with the radio—"

Hermione was the brightest witch of her age; that much everyone knew; and Seamus was known for his proclivity for pyrotechnics. But for both of them to actually apply their skills to create a brand new, magic-powered mobile phone? Harry couldn't even stop his jaw from dropping, his eyes wide with amazement.

Hermione noticed Harry's expression and was bewildered. "What? Is there something on—"

"You're briliant, you know that?" Harry shook his head as he took the phone from her.

"Thanks. Now, it's still unstable, so expect a few errors here and there. If it doesn't work, use owls, fireplace, Patronus, anything, really. You know I'm always here," Hermione's arm suddenly wrapped around him in a tight hug, resting her head on his shoulder.

Harry smiled softly as he felt something wetting his shirt. "You're not crying, aren't you?"

"Why shouldn't I?" Hermione was openly crying now, but she wasn't crying a river the way Ginny did. She still didn't let go of him, but Harry didn't protest. "No one knows when you'll come back. You _have_ to go back, in case Ron—in case Ron and I—"

Harry didn't need to look at Hermione's face to know she's blushing. He laughed, ignoring her stuttered protest. "Believe me, I know that prat. He's all confused right now, trying to figure out the right way to propose you. And heck, of course I'll come back when you get married. What kind of best friend do you think I am?"

"D-don't make it sound like it's a certain thing!" Hermione gushed. "You've got to promise me, okay? You're the closest thing I have for a brother, Harry. Please, just take care of yourself. I don't want to hear you creating a havoc—"

Harry rolled his eyes, skillfully ignoring the unpleasant feeling building up in his chest. "What are you, my mother?" Before Hermione could hit him, he continued. "I can't promise you that I'm going to be okay. I mean, who knows? There are a lot of things out there."

"Then at least promise me you'll come back home."

"I don't make promises I can't keep, 'mione," Harry answered quietly. "But I give you my word that I'll do anything I can to come back. I won't ever forget any of you. And I will always remember that I've got a home."

Hermione didn't say another word. Harry could tell that it wasn't the answer she wanted to hear.

The night was calm, and Harry found himself staring at it with excitement he never tasted before. His grip on his Firebolt tightened, conjuring the similar warmth he felt when he connected with his wand. It definitely wasn't hard to hop onto it, ready to conquer anything that could possibly be in his way.

Harry's eyes connected with Hermione for the last time, flashing a grin, which turned into a soft smile as he watched her laughing. Then, without turning back to gaze at the place he had called home, he set off, accepting the wind that blow against him, his grin widened in excitement. That night, Harry Potter's laugh could be heard from all over town.

* * *

Washington was quite unlucky that night. It was because there was now a certain raven-haired wizard rushing there with enormous speed, his face twisted in a confident smirk, confronting the adrenaline he felt rushing inside his body. His emerald eyes were shieleded with a pair of green goggles, protecting them from the attacking wind. It was barmy, yes, but at that moment Harry found himself too exuberant to care. Even the heavy rain at his current location was no match for him that night.

Flying had always felt absolutely fantastic to him, but never to this extent. The effect of it amplified even more with _Ogden's Old Firewhiskey_ that he had been drinking since his arrival at United States of America, blatantly ignoring Hermione's stern warning. _Who cares? What she doesn't know won't hurt her. _He felt like he was floating in the air, and all complicated problems started to diffuse into bubbles, evaporating to the back of his head, momentarily forgotten.

"WOOOOHOOOOOO!"

The booming shout of his was followed by uncharacteristic giggles, his eyes dancing in mad glee as he zoomed through the cloud, before his hand pushed down his broom roughly, sending him dashing straight to the ground. He loved how the adrenaline rush as his eyes took in the sight of the ground getting nearer and nearer every second.

His laughter erupted again as he managed to safely pulled his Firebolt at the last minute, speeding up across the ground.

"FREEDOM!"

A pair of emerald eyes shone brightly as Harry, for the first time, actually saw the world. He was now free, with nothing pinning him down, no responsibility to take care of, no arch-nemesis around to antagonize him. All that was left for him to conquer was the world, his very own grand adventure.

"HARRY JAMES POTTER IS NOW FR—"

The last thing Harry Potter could comprehend was darkness that suddenly swallowed him.

* * *

**Thank you for reading! Please tell me what you think. It can be simple 'like it' or 'hate it', or constructive criticism, or anything really. Reviews help Authors improve their writing skills, which is generally equal to better story quality.**

**By the way, I made the cover myself! What do you think? Spent hours making that :D**


	3. Chapter 3 - Numbness

**Sorry for the late update. I really am a slow writer, aren't I? I'll try to update faster, so no worries! And the next update should be up sooner, though, since it's already half-written.**

**Again, HUGE thank you for everyone who reviewed! - E J ect, ArrancarMaiden, LunaScamander17, Wondering, Aaron Leach, Sheened, A TwiHard 88, ee, BabLe7, PinkIsMyColor, Penny is wise, Rhianon Cullen, amata0221, OoOXylionOoO, SupaCrazee, TNM-Writer and 0Harry. J. Potter0 !**

**Words : 4732**

**DISCLAIMER : I own nothing. Except the plot.**

* * *

******Thank you for LadyLiterary for beta-ing this chapter!**

* * *

_A pair of emerald eyes shone brightly as Harry, for the first time, actually saw the world. He was now free, with nothing pinning him down, no responsibility to take care of, no arch-nemesis around to antagonize him. All that was left for him to conquer was the world, his very own grand adventure._

_"HARRY JAMES POTTER IS NOW FR—"_

_The last thing Harry Potter could comprehend was darkness that suddenly swallowed him._

* * *

**Chapter 3 – Numbness**

* * *

Oh. My. God.

Renesmee's widened eyes stared at the figure ahead of her in horror, her heart momentarily stopping before beating rapidly. A second later, she was standing next to the figure. She kneeled beside him, her petite fingers shaking as she approached the stranger, who was undoubtedly a man. Her caramel brown eyes searched for the trace of life in the slightly-opened, dazed green ones. His body was almost unrecognizable, so twisted, broken and dislocated that it was near impossible for him to even stay alive. The world around her started to spin as the scent of blood that covered most of the stranger's body invaded her respiration.

Heartbeat. He was lacking a heartbeat.

_She killed someone_. She just murdered a stranger, who probably had a wife and children waiting for him home. Or probably a grandchild expecting his visit. She had taken an innocent life, out of her momentary anger. She had taken a life—

_There's no time for this, _she mentally slapped herself. She needed to do something. Anything. Why couldn't she move? Why was it so hard to break her gaze from the immobile figure in front of her? Time was ticking—why wasn't her body listening? God, someone was dying right in front of her!

Her tangled thoughts were interrupted as she noticed a light illuminating from the corner of her eyes. Glancing up, she found herself gaping as the man before her _glowed. _His body, as broken as it was, was starting to glow in blue light. First were his severe wounds and then the light moved slowly, exploring every inch of his body. Soon his body was thoroughly covered in the blinding blue beam. Renesmee could feel her heart stopping again as the wind around her increased, circling the two of them as the blue light intensified. Her brown hair waved wildly as the harsh wind slapped, while the man's raven hair moved gently, merging with the energy surging within.

Her hair fluttered upwards as the pressure advanced. This time, it wasn't only the blue light that she could comprehend. She could feel the power emitting from the center of his chest, where the blue light was the brightest. Ignoring the chill down her spine she fixed her eyes on the blasting beam. Her eyes widened as the light expanded, releasing a deafening jet-like sound that pounded in her ears. It was intoxicating—she was starting to get pulled by the force, her sensitive senses were overwhelmed with the power the enigma was radiating.

Then everything stopped.

Her heart was beating fast as she drew a deep breath, in a failed attempt to calm herself. Her jeans were torn where she had squeezed too hard and her hair was a disheveled mess, obviously; but the fear in her eyes was the feature that stood out the most.

A small, almost incoherent, heartbeat snapped her out of her paralyzed state. She carefully took the human into her arms, grabbed his backpack and sped to the car. The second she laid the human on the backseat, her car was dashing across the road. She ignored the car's protest as she sped up, leaving the messy road behind her. Renesmee forced her slightly numb fingers to activate the GPS, trailing blood everywhere.

"Come on, come on, hospital, hospital..." Her eyes moved frantically between the road and the screen, as the car sped up in the westward direction.

"_Death, for you, a kiss."_

"Found it—SHIT!" She swore loudly as she took a sudden U-turn, resisting the urge to punch the GPS that was currently showing a nearby hospital eastwards. She glanced at the rearview mirror, worried that the drift had caused some damage to the man lying on the backseat.

"_Sin a lie, embracing those unkind,"_

"Please. Don't die on me," She pleaded, aware of the tears that were starting to build in her eyes. Her grip on the handle tightened, but controlled so she wouldn't break it. "Please, just don't..."

"_No one is safe from their fate,"_

A tear escaped her eyes when all that answered her plea was silence. It was bizarre how she could be so desperate to hear a voice she had never heard before.

"_Death—"_

"SHUT UP!" She almost didn't recognize her own voice, laced with anger and fear. Her fist reacted impulsively, cracking the radio with one smash. She knew she'd probably regret it later, but for now she didn't really want to deal with some miserable old band singing about death.

This was probably the fastest she had driven her car, yet it felt like the longest. Renesmee tried to put all her concentration to the road, but it was hard as she was distracted by the fear of losing that small heartbeat behind her, which was weakening with each second, like a ticking bomb. She let out a small breath she didn't realize she was holding as the sight of an average-looking hospital came into her sight. Not bothering to restrain her movements to look human, she roughly opened the car door and she shouted at the top of her lungs, "HELP! SOMEBODY!"

Renesmee saw a few people rush to approach her, but they were too slow and incompetent to save the man's life in time. She dashed to the backseat and put Harry in her arms, leapt across a row of stairs and appeared in front of the nurse that was already running towards her. "SAVE HIM!" She screamed, panicked with the thought of the man dying in her arms.

The nurse took a step back as she gaped at Renesmee, her horror mirroring the expression on Renesmee's face, while Renesmee inwardly cursed. She didn't have time for this. "H-How—"

"JUST SAVE HIM!"

A hoarse cough was heard from the man as blood spouted out of his mouth. Panic began to overwhelm her—her head felt like it was suddenly packed with cotton. Renesmee's desperate eyes caught the nurse's, who had calmed down, even though still looked stricken. Renesmee felt a small twinge of relief when she heard the nurse speak, "I understand. Please follow me."

"Just—tell me where to go!"

Her eyebrows furrowed at Renesmee with confusion in her eyes for a moment before gleaming in understanding. "Left, second door on the right."

She nodded as she dashed past the nurse, murmuring a small—probably inaudible—thanks. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion, even with her vampire blood forcing her feet to move beyond human capacity. Following the nurse's direction, her chest filled with hope as she saw the second door. Her eyes flickered to the man in her arms, staring at the gory face with despair she never felt before, at least to this extent, in her entire lifetime.

"Come on," she whispered, uncaring that the man probably couldn't hear her. A tear dropped to the man's cheek, merging with the blood. "Stay with me for a little bit more."

Without a second thought, her right leg blew the door open, crashing it through the thankfully empty hallway as it broke into several pieces with a loud thud. Ignoring the alarm on the doctors' faces, she hurried, "SAVE HIM!"

It was fortunate that the doctors were much more professional than the nurse; they soon recovered from their shock, ignoring the mess she had made. Quickly—at least for human standards—they were already running everywhere, each focusing on their individual tasks to help save him. Renesmee stood still, her eyes reflecting the dread she felt. Her eyebrows knitted together at the sight in front of her, unintentionally imagining the pain he was in. Now that she had actually taken a good look at his wounds, the small hope inside her chest slowly faded. With one last look at the man whose life she almost took, she was forced to wait outside.

* * *

"Here it is," The silky-haired man winked at her. "120 bucks for four hours. I'm impressed."

"Uh, thanks," she murmured, grimacing weakly in return. The man in front of her must be in his 40s, yet here he was, staring at her as if she was a piece of meat. He played with his black mustache as he gave her a smile that was probably supposed to be charming, but made her gag inside. "I really, really got to go now."

"Oh, come on," His voice was now only a whisper as he brought his face dangerously close. "I can do a lot of things, you know."

Okay, this was way over the line. Her polite mask fell off, and the man narrowed his eyes in distaste. "Don't play that game with me, sweetheart. Follow me, I've got a room for us to go to. Alone."

His hand reached for her, but unfortunately for him, Renesmee was much more than a weak human girl who couldn't defend herself. She twisted his arm, resisting the urge to break it in a single pull. With a small satisfication, she looked right into the bewildered black eyes staring at her. "I'm not just a normal girl, you know," she whispered, knowing that there were people around them. "You're this close to getting your arms ripped off your shoulders."

He gasped in pain, and Renesmee decided to step back as people started to stare. With a sweet smile, she cheerfully nodded. "Thank you, sir! Unfortunately I can't continue working here," her lips twisted into a sad smile at the customers' protests around her. "It was fun! I don't want to leave this place, but I have to. I sincerely hope we can all meet again."

She grinned at the crowd in a mock salute, her pearly white teeth gleaming in the light. The crowd erupted into cheers—some shouted for her to stay, but none of them, thankfully, went as far as to actually stop her from going. Giving one last wink, she walked out of her door, laughing while her fingers gleefully brushed her money.

Money was never a problem for the Cullens, but holding the funds she had actually worked for made her feel very content. Renesmee realized that she had run away from home with practically nothing but the clothes on her and a car. That was what pushed her to collect funds. She had several doubts that she wouldn't be able to find a job, but a week had passed and she had been changing jobs every day, with quite satisfying payments for each of them. To her surprise, she had enjoyed her jobs, with the exception of the occasional disgusting men.

That night, she stopped by the nearest grocery store. As she had done every other night.

The hospital was quiet as always. When she arrived, she nodded and walked past the nurse, whom she met first. It was a wonder how the doctors and the nurse never asked her further questions about her freakish speed. She was used to hearing that humans were so oblivious when it came to privacy—it was mostly true, according to her high school experience—but people here were different, which in turn gained her respect.

She stopped to take a deep breath in front of room 302. Third floor, right corridor from the lift—the best room they could offer. She entered the room to find her hopes crushed again.

The young man was still unconscious, lying on the bed without moving an inch, wearing ordinary blue patient clothes. Most of his body was still covered in bandages, even his head. The only thing visible from the upper part of his face were his closed eyes. His black hair stuck out between the bandages. Truthfully, he looked like a mummy. Had she actually known the young man and the situation hadn't been so serious, she probably would've laughed.

He had broken a good amount of bones and the doctors had said that it was a miracle that he lived, especially with all the fractured bones in his body. They didn't seem too sure that he'd make it out alive. The only thing that could calm her was his stable heartbeat.

"Hey," she tried.

No answer. Of course. What did she expect?

"I brought apples, you know. They're my favorite. My mom used to like it so much before she was turned. She told me that it had something to do with my dad. Yeah, cheesy, I know."

Renesmee took one of the apples and bit into the juicy core.

"I brought these for you. I don't know whether you'd like them or not," She laughed nervously. "I mean, you have to tell me yourself..."

She bit her lip nervously. "I really don't know what to say. I mean, sure, leaving home wasn't planned at all...but for a second I thought that I was gong to have a hell of a fun time once I was free. And then bam! Life happens," She said. "Why am I even speaking to you? Hell, you can't hear me!"

She focused her eyes on the ceiling, trying to prevent the tears building up in her eyes. God, she cried so much.

"I have a question for you, by the way," Her eyes narrowed. "_What _exactly are you?"

Maybe it wasn't polite to have her nose in someone else's business when he was bedridden and unconscious, especially since she was the cause of it. But her curiousity overwhelmed her when she recalled what had happened.

"Let's see," She said as she munched her apple, a little less miserable now. "Your heartbeat stopped for a minute, don't you dare telling me otherwise," She warned the man, who looked as emotionless as ever. "And that there was this blinding light all over your body and the wind got harsh. That was definitely not normal. And there's your heart beat again! I almost had a panic attack because of you! And brooms! Who the hell rides broom anyway?"

She felt like she could, almost, feel his resentment.

"I-I'm sorry," She gulped remorsefully. "I'll try replacing your new broom with a better one, but I'm not too sure where to buy it—"

"_Du didam didam.."_

Renesmee's eyes followed the source of sound. It was the bag the young man had been carrying with him. Who would set such a ridiculous tune to be a ringtone, Renesmee didn't know. Filled with curiosity and a bit of annoyance, she she stuck her hand in the bag.

Her eyes frantically widened, forcefully swallowing the loud shout she almost let out.

"You're kidding," She said weakly as she peeked into the backpack. It was really spacious, as if there was no end to the space in the bag. There were books, clothes, various bottles of different coloured liquids, and some other things she didn't recognize, all of which were disorganized. "Imagine what Aunt Alice would say!"

Renesmee had a lot of fun with that backpack. The handphone that rang before didn't ring anymore,and Renesmee didn't bother to try and find it. Instead, she had examined a lot of his clothes—robes, oh the nightmare!—a lot of newspapers with moving pictures, an annoying mirror who kept on nagging about how she should put her hair into a braid. She spent half an hour arguing with it, but thankfully, smacked it back inside. In the end, she spent her time searching for books to read.

"Why didn't I do think of doing this before?" She giggled to herself.

She quickly snapped the Arithmancy book shut the moment she started skimming the pages. She had read a few books about spells and defense, but then her eyes landed on a decent-looking book.

"Hogwarts: A History," She read aloud.

The book was addictive. She found herself unable to stop as she absorbed every word printed on it. The idea of magic made her blood boil in excitement; how could the muggle-borns comprehend the absurdity of it? She could imagine how they would feel the moment they're told; excitement, doubt and excessive hope merged into one. A magical world where everything is possible. But how could it exist, while hiding such a huge community from muggles?

A world where Physics doesn't work. Nice. She'd always hated Physics.

It was such a shame that the book was quick to finish. Then she grabbed some of the little bottles, or as they called it, Potions. _It's like Chemistry! _was her first thought. _But way cooler, _she thought. She had put the other things back neatly, praising herself that she had made his disorganized mess of items nice and tidy. After awhile, she randomly picked out a small vial and drank it out of pure, brimming curiosity. Well, it wasn't like any thing could get past the vampire venom, right?

Renesmee felt her eyes getting really, really heavy before a peaceful darkness consumed her.

* * *

The world was dark no more.

It was a blur at first, which made Harry think his eyesight had worsened. But a few seconds passed, he managed to blink a few times, and soon Harry's surrounding became as clear as crystal. The strong scent of medicines made him regain his senses. That was when he recalled what had happened.

Firewhiskey...flying...the sharp smell of blood...and then some short-lived excruciating pain before the world turned black..

At least he didn't die, he mused as he inclined his head to examine the bandages covering his body. His hand lazily reached for the counter on his left, only to find there was nothing there. His eyes suddenly jerked open, ignoring everything else as he frantically searched for it.

"Oh, no, no, no..."

_It had to be here, _he thought desperately. He didn't even have the holster on anymore! His head snapped to his right to find that he wasn't alone.

A girl, perhaps sixteen years old, was resting her head on the right side of his bed. Her bronze hair fell over her face, only allowing outsiders to see a small bit of her face. He didn't know why—he blamed it on his 'morbid curiosity'—his hand carefully approached her, lifting a soft lock of hair so he could see better. She was incredibly beautiful, which, somewhow, didn't surprise him. A small nose, perfectly plump lips that were slightly parted, and a pale but nice skin to contrast it all. What were the colour of her eyes? Harry hoped they were blue; it would look good on her.

His musings were stopped when he saw what was in her hand. She was holding his wand, with the holster next to her side. His Gryffindor-coloured backpack was put nicely on a desk. With a flinch, he carefully drew the wand out of limp grip. She mumbled a few unrecognizable things, then returned to her soundless sleep.

_Who the bloody hell is she anyway? _Harry wondered as he slowly sat, casting _Accio_ on his backpack. His backpack was the second most important thing on his list; after his wand, that is.

What had happened? Maybe he didn't crash into a building like he originally thought—no witnesses would bother waiting up for him. He wasn't the Boy Who Lived, after all. At least here. The highest possibility was that he had actually crashed a car, and the girl was patiently waiting for him out of guilt, or a simple kindness. He snorted. Such an innocence.

He smiled at her. "Obliviate."

He left the hospital in a surprising ease. His body had efficiently coped with the situation—the pain wasn't even there anymore. Though that was one of the reasons why he felt incredibly cheerful that night, it wasn't the main one. Harry whistled cheerfully as he walked past the tall buildings. It was completely diverse with the buildings he was used to. No magic to make it magical, of course, but technology could keep up with no time.

Despite the cool, evening breeze, Harry's body was soaked with sweat. So it was perfect when he found an ice cream vendor which was almost at closing time. He ran towards the bulky man, who seemed unaware of Harry's presence. He tapped the man's shoulder, asking for a vanilla flavored cone, but was welcomed with a scream.

He stared at the now retreating man oddly before shrugging. The man left his ice cream counter, good for him that Harry was quite respectable. He took a cone of vanilla and strawberry, not forgetting to leave coins—the real price be damned.

After an hour or two of walking around like an idiot, he realized most of stores were already closed. Harry spent it walkng around, feeling surprisingly restless. The bright lights masking the dark night set his mind at ease. Even though some bystanders had bewildered faces when he passed, he quickly brushed it off. Maybe it was just the muggles. No one would never know that he was the Boy Who Lived here.

In the end, Harry finally got bored. He planned to go to Las Vegas. He heard that it was fascinating, according to George. Then again, he probably had to be extra careful since it was George. He had been twice as mischievous since he had come to terms with Fred's death—something about living up to Fred's memory. While that was truly a respectable action, Harry didn't blame himself for getting a tad bit paranoid at his antics.

When he tried to summon his Firebolt, something in his mind clicked.

"Oh my god," Harry whispered. No—that can't be. It was Sirius' gift..

"OI! YOU!"

Reacting to this familiar calling, he felt relieved that it wasn't a ghost version of Vernon Dursley who yelled at him. Instead, meters behind him, stood the girl that had slept, waiting for him in the hospital. She had horror reflected on her face. They stared at each other for a few seconds before she ran towards him with surprising agility. "ARE YOU CRAZY?"

"I sincerely hope not," Harry answered, a little put out. _Ah, her eyes are chocolate brown._

"Why did you run off? What the hell are you doing—walking around the streets looking like _that_?"

"Like what?"

"You don't know?" At Harry's dumb look, she dragged him to the front of the nearest boutique.

It was dark, but it was perfectly clear what was reflected on the glass. His body wasn't soaked in sweat—it was blood. Harry felt his feet losing the strength as the darkness welcomed him.

* * *

"Hello world," Harry said as he was brought back to consciousness.

"You're awake," The girl was, again, sitting beside his bed, looking relieved. "How are you feeling?"

"Restless," He grinned mischeviously. "I could run a few miles."

She bit her lip. "So it's true."

Her tone made his grin fade."What's true?"

It was the same exact room with the one Harry previously awoke in. The girl had a basket full of apples resting it on her lap. Genuine concern shone in her eyes. "You want one? Do you like apples?"

"Love them, actually," Harry answered, and she smiled as if it was some kind of inside joke. "What's true?"

"You need to rest," She sighed. "Your lack of self-awareness is disturbing."

Harry glared. "Well, your lack of response to my repetative question is annoying."

She sighed as she handed him an apple. She looked really worn-out, almost appearing years older than the last time Harry had seen her. The nausea and stress evident on her face affected Harry, curious as to what had caused her to feel like that. Harry carefully took a bite as he kept his eyes on her, demanding for answers.

"You're numb," She said. "It's impossible to feel restless with all those wounds on your body. Just like last night. You reopened almost all of the wounds! You were soaked in blood, your muscles were strained, but you don't feel anything. But your condition is getting better," She quickly finished.

Harry's eyebrows rose, clearly disbelieving what he just heard. "Excuse me? I can feel the touch, you know, here," He held her hand roughly. "I can feel your skin. I am holding your hand and I can feel it."

The girl looked oddly panicked, rose pink coloring her face. "Y-yeah, I know you can feel. You can see. Your senses are great as ever. But when it comes to pain—"

"What? My body refused the pain?" Harry answered sarcastically.

However, her eyes turned hard and serious. "It's true, actually. Your body blocked out the pain. You can't feel any pain."

The girl twisted his right hand that was holding hers seconds ago with a dazzling speed. He didn't even have the time to react.

"I am an inch close to break your hand," She said, her eyes refusing to meet his. "Normally, you'd feel a great pain."

Harry didn't answer. Then she let his hand go, going back to her seat to slice another apple as she gave Harry a moment to stare at his hands with wide eyes.

He turned his attention to the girl, before burying his face into his hands as realization washed over him. "Oh, no."

She looked surprised. "I...thought it was a good thing? Being painless and all? I can break your hand and you won't feel a thing."

"Exactly," He groaned. "Pain is a warning. Without warning, I won't know my limit. I could go to a crazy extreme and die a second later with no warning that it was going to happen."

Harry didn't know what to say, really. Apparently, he was now numb. Permanent or not, he wasn't sure. Great. Another abnormality. _I should really start to collect them_, Harry thought dryly. But how could it be? There was no chance that magic wasn't involved. But what kind of magic? Hermione would know about something like this, if it had ever happened before. But no, Hermione never spoke anything about it—and she talked _a lot_—adding to that fact that Harry was quite the reader himself. He'd never heard anything about painlessness.

Seeing Harry silently panicking, the girl rested a hand on his shoulder.

"It may not be permanent," She reassured him after awhile. "I don't know, actually. The doctor doesn't know, either."

Harry turned to her in desperation. "What did he say?"

"He didn't know how it could happen. Total numbness accompanied with restlessness isn't exactly a common case."

Now how the bloody hell would he defend himself? Someone could cast Sectumsempra when his back is turned and he wouldn't know until he had lost too much blood! Or someone could cut his wrist when he was asleep and he wouldn't realize it until he bled to death. It would be pretty efficient, though, while opposing a Cruciatus curse; but Harry doubted the numbness would block the pain.

Harry took a deep breath. Why was he being so paranoid? He wasn't here for war. The war had ended. But sometimes it was really hard to get over it, even if it was the truth. The reality was he was now a jobless man who decided to go around the world to fulfill his parents' bucketlist.

"You died that night."

Harry's blood turned cold. How did she know what happened at Hogwarts two years ago?

He asked carefully, "What do you mean?"

"The night when we ran into each other," Her answer surprised him, but also made him relieved.

"You died. Your heartbeat completely stopped. I checked it. But then suddenly you were covered in a blinding blue beam and a violent force was messing the wind and pulling me in. When it stopped, your heartbeat was back. Incredibly small, but enough for you to stay alive. Which leads me to one question: _What_ are you?"

Harry stood still, his body tense, his eyes betraying the confusion he refused to show. "I...I Obliviated you."

"I'm a Squib," She replied. "I have always had a photographic memory since I was born. No one knows why," Harry was still too stunned to reply, so she continued. "I don't have any magical relatives left. They were killed. I've been living a muggle life with my parents since then."

Harry finally snapped out of it as he opened his mouth to speak, but Renesmee beat him to it. "What's your name, wizard?"

"H..Harry Potter."

"Well, mine's Renesmee Carlie Cullen. And I would like to follow you for a while."

* * *

**The song that was played in Renesmee's car is "Death..In Its Arm" by Samhain. Not mine too, peeps.**

**For 'e' – I don't know any other way to reply to your review, so I'm replying through this. Thank you! I just can't leave such a long and enthusiastic review unreplied. I'm glad you like this story and I hope you will be around for the next chapters. Thanks! :D**

**Anyone knows what potion Renesmee drank? ;)**

**What do you think? Like it? Hate it? Please tell me. I love reading reviews :)**


	4. Chapter 4 - And Then The Journey Begins

**I updated. Yay me!**

**As usual, HUGE Thank You for everyone who reviewed! Seriously, you people are awesome: frytrix, TNM-Writer, Aaron Leach, ArrancarMaiden, Ceti H. Black, Lord Mortensen, Dark Neko 4000, amata0221, Penny is wise, PinkIsMyColor, Velani, 0Harry. J. Potter0, Seanzards, Horsen Cullen, alizarinf, praeceps25, OoOXylionOoO!**

**Words: 4536**

**DISCLAIMER : I own nothing. Except the plot.**

* * *

**Thank you for LadyLiterary for beta-ing this chapter!**

* * *

_"I'm a Squib," She replied. "I have always had a photographic memory since I was born. No one knows why," Harry was still too stunned to reply, so she continued. "I don't have any magical relatives left. They were killed. I've been living a muggle life with my parents since then."_

_Harry finally snapped out of it as he opened his mouth to speak, but Renesmee beat him to it. "What's your name, wizard?"_

_"H..Harry Potter."_

_"Well, mine's Renesmee Carlie Cullen. And I would like to follow you for a while."_

* * *

**Chapter 4 – ****And Then ****The Journey Begins**

"W-what?"

"I want to follow you," She told him firmly. "Judging from what's inside your backpack, you're a nomad, so I want to follow you for a while."

"You looked into my backpack?!" He said weakly, disturbed by his own lack of anger.

"I'm sorry," She smiled sweetly,waving her hand dismissively, as if the topic had already been forgotten. "Now, where are we going next?"

"What? I haven't even said yes!" Harry interjected, getting on his feet. In a split second, she forced him back to bed with unbelievable physical strength. He tried to move, but her thin hand pushed his chest down like a damn bludger.

"You know, I've always wanted a British accent," The girl said in a conversational tone, staring into his bewildered eyes, full of wonder, as though she was actually facing a total stranger.

The news of the outcome of the war wasn't Britain's Top Secret, or even Europe's. He vaguely remembered the Minister of Magic of America floo-ing right into his flat when all he wanted was a good night sleep. The tall man thanked him for his deeds, even went as far as winking at him after giving him a parcel of full-colored apples. As far as he knew, the Europe, Rusia and America knew about the war—and who had ended it.

Harry's eyebrows furrowed, "You don't know me." It was more of a statement than a question.

Her eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "Unless you're famous or something, I haven't even heard about the Wizarding world for the past fifteen years."

"Not even the Boy Who Lived?"

"What?"

Harry shook his head. "Nothing. Now, I'm really sorry, but unfortunately—"

"You're not gonna say yes?" She interrupted, looking at him oddly.

"Why would I? I don't even know you!"

She extended her hand, smiling brightly. "Well, I'm Renesmee. Renesmee Cullen."

Harry felt a vein throbbing on his forehead. "It doesn't matter! Whatever your name is, Rea-niz-may.."

"Ruh-nez-may," She corrected him.

"It doesn't matter!" He exploded. "How do I know you're not a Death Eater? Or someone who wants me dead?"

She held up both of her hands. "Look. Do I have to strip to show you I don't have any "Death Eater" tattoos?" She grinned cheekily at his gob-smacked expression. "I'll even give you my pinky promise that I have no ill intention towards you."

"That won't be necessary," He finally said, after searching her with calculating eyes. "You're a minor. Where are your parents? Or guardians?"

Her eyes abruptly lost the confidence. "I ran away from home."

Harry stared at the girl again. She seemed so fragile, so feeble; yet her physical strength proved his theory wrong. She seemed almost neurotic; her emotions changing abruptly. Seconds ago Harry had been overwhelmed by her annoying confidence and cheerfulness, and now the girl's expression had changed again, turning into a bitter frown.

"You shouldn't have."

"You don't know my story," She snapped.

"And you don't know mine," He retorted casually. "Which proves we barely know each other."

Harry could see that this had crossed her thoughts too; they were complete strangers, meeting because of a terrible, random accident. It didn't seem logical to suddenly team up and travel around the world. Harry could also see that she was thinking hard, trying to find reasons to make Harry agree to take her along.

When she spoke, her voice had become soft, almost melodic; a voice that's been trained to sing.

"Please."

Harry almost snorted in exasperation. He had given her what seemed like eternity to think, and all she could manage was _Please_? Harry wasn't a Slytherin—though really,he could easily be one—but who sane person would agree to bring a total stranger along? Besides, she'd be more likely a liability he didn't need, despite her obvious show of physical strength, hiding under that petite frame.

Harry sighed. "Look, let's just sit down and sort this out."

As both of them sat, Harry, not wanting to waste time, asked, "What happened, anyway?"

The brunette sighed, before she began, "Um, I guess I ran away from home because I was just so angry that I jumped in a car and left, and sped up until I hit something," She took a deep breath. "I've never felt as dreadful like that before. It was completely different; imagining it and actually experiencing that I might lead to someone to death was horrible. All I could focus on was your heartbeat when I brought you here."

"Broom," Harry said quietly. "Where's my broom?"

Her eyes fell to the ground and she stood, taking a bundle with her as she sat back down. Harry just stared.

"I'm sorry," She answered, almost as quietly.

And then the blanket fell off. His Firebolt lay there, in tiny pieces. Harry shouldn't have been so suprised. Really, what did he expect? It was a miracle that _he _had survived at all. To expect the same thing for his Firebolt was, simply, illogical. Harry swallowed down the unpleasant feeling in his stomach. It wasn't about how fast and helpful Firebolt had been. It was about who had given it to him. Would Sirius forgive him, if he knew? Of course he knew. He would know, somehow. And of course Sirius would forgive him. He'd probably laugh at Harry's pouting. No matter how silly it might sound, mourning over a broom, Harry stared emptily at it, regrets badgering him unpleasantly from every side.

It was like third year all over again. Only this time he didn't have Dementors to blame.

"I'm sorry," She croaked out. Harry's eyes widened in surprise as he saw a glint of tears in her eyes. "I'll try to replace it...somehow.."

"Err, it's okay," Hary said; awkwardness replacing his sorrow. Why the bloody hell was she crying? "It was my fault. I was drunk, you know."

"You were drunk?" Her head snapped up, her eyes burning with accusation. She was about to shout something before blushing scarlet, choking out another "I'm sorry..."

"Yeah—completely my fault...I'm sorry. I'll try to fix your car...assuming you still have it around?"

"No permanent damage, and it's not like it's even that important," She roughly wiped the tears off her face.

"I'll just take this, okay?" Harry said, not waiting for her answer as he put the pieces of wood back into his bag.

"Y-yeah," The girl replied. She wiped the remaining tears off her face and raised her head, hope alighting it. "So, can I come?"

Harry stopped to gaze at her. It was impossible not to. _Definitely neurotic_, Harry concluded.

A lopsided grin appeared on his face. "What's in it for me?"

The girl seemed flabbergasted at his answer. Perhaps Harry didn't seem to be the type? Nevertheless, she visibly gulped as she answered,"I can cook."

Harry snorted, amusement creeping up. "So can I."

"I…I can cook, like really well," She said, seeming nervous this time. "I can draw and paint. Um, with my photographic memory, it'd be a great help."

Harry still didn't break his gaze. The girl made him sound like he was on mission or something—which he was, but actually, he was more on vacation than anything. The whole point of this journey was to fulfill his parents' bucketlist and to be in complete control of himself for once in his life. Harry didn't think he'd need a companion. That was the point of fighting with Ginny…and dealing with the threat of losing her.

"Please. I have nowhere else to go," She threw her hands up, seemingly desperate to find any other reasons to convince him to say yes. "I can't stand being alone."

And that was when he looked, really looked, into her eyes. Chocolate brown eyes, belonging to someone so young, so innocent. There was no other emotion beneath those eyes but the nervousness that she eyes held the eternal warmth in them, happiness and peace in its depths. And innocence; there was nothing dark as he stared into her eyes—nothing to be ashamed of or cry over before she went to sleep. So young and carefree, eyes that never had to see the bitter side of the world.

The eyes of someone who had lived her life in blissful ignorance. The eyes of a child.

"Sing for me."

"Huh?"

Harry crossed his arms. "Sing. I said sing."

And she did. A heart-warming tune flowed out from her lips; a tune so beautiful that he just stood there, unmoving, his eyes unable to leave the nervous young girl in front of him.

_"I've got my ticket for the long way run_

_Two bottles of whiskey for the way_

_And I sure would like some sweet company_

_I'm leaving tomorrow, whadaya say?_

_"When I'm gone, when I'm gone_

_You're gonna miss me when I'm gone_

_You're gonna miss me by my hair_

_You're gonna miss me everywhere_

_"You're gonna miss me when I'm gone."_

A long silence fell between them. They were still caught up in each other's eyes; one was both anxious and hopeful, one unreadable. Harry slowly let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, before turning around and walking to the exit.

"Well, come along," Harry said over his shoulder. "But I am _not_ paying for the gas."

Renesmee seemed stunned for a second, and then beamed with triumph. Harry's eyebrows rose when she suddenly threw her arms around him, giggling happily as if he was the Christmast gift she had been waiting for.

Harry smiled softly. He would probably regret this later, but at least it wasn't going to be a lonely adventure after all.

"Where are you going? You're not healed yet!"

Harry sighed as Renesmee regained common sense and dragged him back to bed.

* * *

It took Harry a week to heal all his major injuries; with the help of potions (brewed by Hermione, so he didn't have any doubts about them) and muggle medication that included painful needles, unpleasant drugs and an annoying, flirty nurse that was one of the muggles Harry had Obliviated to believe that his injuries were never that severe in the first place. It was slightly easier to deal with all these annoyances when they were accompanied by Renesmee singing beside him.

"I can't believe you don't know about this song!" Renesmee pouted, rather childishly, as she extended her hand to give Harry another mouthful of porridge. "Turning Page by Sleeping At Last? It's brilliant!"

"I'm sorry for not knowing a muggle love song," Harry said dryly after he swallowed. "Do you happen to know the latest single of the Weird Sisters?"

She made a face. "Must be a shitty girl band."

"It's an all-boy group, actually," Harry corrected. "And if this Sleeping At Last is such a genius, sing it. I'm listening."

"I want to, but I can't," Her exasperated face made him snort. "The best part of it, after its beautiful voice, is the beautiful piano! The song wouldn't be as half as beautiful if the piano is missing!"

Harry smirked. "Don't you have any other vocabulary than 'beautiful'?"

She glared. "You know I can poison you anytime, don't you?"

Harry chuckled under Renesmee's meant-to-be-withering glare. It was like dealing with a kid; you can mess with them all you want and all they can do is to glare at you.

"And you know I can leave you anytime, don't you?"

All color drained from her face, addinng it to Harry's amusement. "I—I—That's not fair!"

"Life isn't exactly fair, you know."

Harry had brooded for a while about how he should've paid more attention to learning healing spells; with the exception of basic spells like _Episkey_ and _Anapneo_. Although _Vulnera Sanentur_ was a great healing spell that he could do—it could heal deep gashes created by _Sectumsempra_, afterall—he was obviously not quite conscious to do that particular spell. Harry didn't blame himself all that much, though. He was, afterall, always placed as the ultimate offense in every battle, since the first time he joined until he reached the top. He had played the defense in some occasion, but he had never been ordered to join the healing division, nor had he had any intention to join them. He had always thought of himself as a warrior. Warriors don't heal people; they destroy them.

If only he contacted Madam Pomfrey, or at least Hermione, he'd be running around in a few hours, completing his parents bucket list. As tempting as it might sound, Harry couldn't risk having to face their outburst at seeing him bloody and in a near-death state, _again_. On the other hand, he also had originally planned to not letting the other know his exact location. A step closer for peace and freedom he'd craved.

Disobeying his own rule of isolation, Harry now officially had a companion. Renesmee wasn't bad, he supposed. She could be downright annoying sometimes—bloody talkative, too—but she seemed genuinely happy to be allowed to come along. It wasn't enough to trust her, though. When she didn't look, Harry would stare. Harry noticed the _grace _in every step she took. She moved with elegance; not on purpose, since she didn't seem to notice it herself. The way she carried herself, the way her hair fell perfectly when she tilted her head in annoyance, even the way she shrugged reflected an elegance that Harry couldn't help but pick up on.

_Almost like a vampire_, Harry mused. He did have some vampire acquaintances, some of the few who knew about the existence of magic. Vampires were truly graceful creatures; the way their feet brushed off the ground swiftly,or the animalistic desire flaring in their blood-red eyes that somehow managed to still look elegant in the eyes of human.

Renesmee, however, wasn't graceful enough to be counted as a vampire. She gladly ate a plate full of spagetti and declared she loved it, something vampries could never do. It was funny how her elegance disappeared everytime she opened her mouth; like a petulant, spoiled child.

Despite her childish nature—still understandable, actually, since she claimed that she was sixteen—she had nervously apologized for breaking Harry's Firebolt for good. Harry didn't blame her, all of it was truly his fault. Firebolt was a really great company and Harry felt extremely bad for it, but he knew Sirius wouldn't like that.

When Harry found out about the bills, he was astonished that Renesmee managed to pay for it.

"I have to use my family's money," She muttered darkly as she flashed the highly-useful card. "And I swear I will never use it again."

"Shame."

With his health back to its prime, Harry happily left the hospital. No one could blame him for being incredibly joyous at that time. He was sick of the smell of medicine and hospital; and it made the fresh air that entered his chest feel better than usual. The scent of the city, Harry mused. Then he turned around when he heard the sound of a car horn.

"Where are you going?" She laughed, carefree. Harry's jaw dropped.

That had to be the most expensive car he had ever seen.

"Porsche 911 Turbo. Old car, but certainly fast," She grinned cheekily, answering his unspoken question. "Come on, hop in."

Harry snapped his mouth shut, trying not to gawk too much. The Porsche was bright yellow—too much of happy colour for his taste—but it looked fast. That's what made him stare at it hungrily. It looked like the muggle version of a Firebolt. While he observed the beauty, Harry's eyes wandered to a huge, ugly scratch on the front side.

"There's a scratch," He frowned.

"Caused by your broom," She retorted.

"Excuse me!" Harry exclaimed, offended. "At least it's not completely _broken_!"

Renesmee shrugged, but Harry noticed the regret she was trying to hide. It was enough for him to sit in the passanger seat.

Renesmee seemed unusually quiet then, but Harry pretended not to notice. Instead, he went out of the car and walked next to the driver's car door.

"I'll do the driving."

Renesmee's eyes widened and her grip on the wheel tightened. "Can you even drive a car?"

"You have to teach me," He shrugged.

Renesmee gaped at him with utter disbelief. They stared at each other for a while; a contest of will. After a few second, she sighed in resignation. Harry smirked when she moved to passanger's seat.

Oh, he was going to love this.

* * *

Renesmee tried to keep a straight face as the wind bashed her face with no mercy, her bronze hair waving madly behind. Her face turned very slowly—so her hair wouldn't slap her face—to see Harry's raven hair waving wildly, too. The difference between them was the exuberant expression plastered on his face, whilst absent on hers.

She took a deep breath. Surely Harry would be more responsible. _This was still only 80 'd gone much faster and nothing happened. They will be completely unharmed._ She groaned quietly as she tried to calm herself.

His laugh sounded completely off with the harsh wind. "This is marvelous!"

Renesmee tried to calm herself down again. _It's okay. It's only 80 km/h...83...95...wait._

"SLOW DOWN!" She suddenly bellowed. He was still laughing. "YOU'RE INSANE! THIS IS A PORSCHE!"

He didn't answer. The speedboat went higher.

"STOP!" Renesmee shouted again, this time moving to take control of the handle.

"THERE'S A CAR IN FRONT OF US!"

Harry finally stopped laughing, his eyes wide. Both Renesmee's and Harry's hand met as they rotated the handle swiftly, missing the other car by inches. Both of them ignored the loud profanity the car owner sent them.

"You're insane," She said after a long, awkward silence.

Harry breathed. "I thought I'd warned you already."

After a long, mouthful debate, Harry finally gave up. Renesmee, apparently still in shock, took the driver position, as Harry turned on the Wizarding World Map. She tried to focus on the road, but a magical map! She caught glimpses of it; the land size and shape were exactly the same, but the barrier of every country was different. There was also their location, a small dote sparkling approximately three inches away from the American Ministry of Magic.

"Are we going to the American ministry?"She asked.

"No. At least not now," Harry shook his head. "Not on the list."

"List? Your bucket list?"

"No. My parents'."

She frowned. "Why would you—"

"They're dead."

Oh.

Renesmee stole a glance at Harry. So that was why his face was clouded when he suggested that she should've stayed home. Renesmee felt a bit sick.

"I'm sorry," She replied quietly. "You want to talk about it?"

"No, not really."

Renesmee resisted the urge to slap herself. Who sane person would want to talk about their parents' death with a stranger they'd only known for a few weeks?

"Japan," Harry decided. "Head for the airport. We're going to Japan."

Renesmee laughed. "Haha, good one. We're going to Japan using a muggle plane."

"I fail to see the humour in that."

It turned out that Harry wasn't joking at all. In no time, they were in front of the airport, each of them holding small notebooks that Harry disguised as a passports with Disillusionment charm. They looked peculiar, she supposed, since all they carried with them was Harry's backpack. To Renesmee's utter amazement, Harry shrunk her car and put it in the bag. She definitely _had _to have an enlarged purse. Eventually.

They also passed the security with no fuss. That was when Renesmee realized that Harry must be a skilled wizard, for his Disillusionment charm was so perfect. He also managed, somehow, to get the front seats, despite them arriving later than the other passengers.

"This is my first time traveling by plane," Harry announced as he adjusted the seat to his favorite sleeping position.

"I don't think anything can surprise me anymore," Renesmee sighed. "So, you have any good books to read?"

Harry already knew that she read fast, so he recommended ten books to last for a night—one book about magical creatures, two books about Quidditch, two books about History of Wizarding world, and a mysterious book that was written by Gilderoy Lockhart—she was suspicious about this particular book, since he seemed like he was holding back a laugh when he handed it to her—and four books about romance.

Renesmee stifled a laugh when Harry visibly tensed as the plane accelerated, preparing to take off.

"This is your last chance," Harry said, his jaw clenched as he rested his head on the seat. "To come along or to stay."

"A bit too late for that, isn't it?" Renesmee said dryly, staring at the airport as it got smaller and smaller.

Harry pressed on. "You're sure? You want to go with me?"

She knew he was expecting her to back down. "Anywhere but home."

And then Harry flashed a mischievous grin; a grin he never showed her before. His emerald eyes sparkled with humor, all the tension gone from his face, soft even in its state of disarray. That was when she realized that his messy, dark hair framed his face perfectly. His sharp nose, so defined. His rather thick eyebrows. Perfectly thin lips with a strong jaw.

His grin faded as his eyes turned to meet hers. His eyes, so beautiful, now danced in confusion, probably wondering why this weird girl was openly staring at him. But Renesmee's eyes didn't leave him. It was like she was captured in their depths—so many emotions behind the confusion of those greenest eyes she'd ever seen; pain, sadness and guilt, eternally trapped in them. Brilliant-green, war-hardened eyes.

Renesmee felt guilt rising again for deceiving him.

"What?" Harry raised his eyebrows.

"Nothing," Renesmee muttered as she turned her attention back to the book, releasing a breath she wasn't aware she was holding.

"You're a bit red," He commented. "Are you okay?"

"Absolutely fine!" She squeaked unconvincingly. "So which one should I read first?" She quickly asked to distract him.

It worked. "Definitely the one by Gilderoy Lockhart."

Renesmee's eyes narrowed suspiciously at that, but decided to read it anyway. The plane was finally in the air at a steady elevation and Harry finally he was busy playing games on the small screen in front of him, his ears covered by headphone, so hooked by it that he ignored the food that was placed in front of him.

"This is boring," He made a face.

"What do you expect?" Renesmee rolled his eyes after she swallowed the sausage. "You should watch movie. And aren't you gonna eat that food or something?"

"Later," Harry answered dismissively. He then stopped, before turning to her. "Er, are you saying you want it? The food?"

"What? No!" She said defensively as he eyed him as if she was violent, little explosion who ate everything. "I was just asking. Common manners, you know."

"Oh. You kind of remind me of a friend. He always says that when he wants my food."

Renesmee didn't miss the sadness that crossed his face for the moment. She opened her mouth to ask, but then decided against it.

"What is that?" Hary asked as he pointed at the blue box in the screen.

"A Passanger's Guide," She replied. "I forgot you're new to the airphone thing. You should watch it first."

Then Renesmee watched Harry, fascinated at his excitement as he watched the guide, reacting happily to normal things. Then _Year With The Yeti _by Gilderoy Lockhart was suddenly not so interesting anymore—not that it was a great book in the first place. Harry followed Renesmee's suggestion to watch 'Avatar', much to Renesmee's delight. He seemed genuinely captivated by the movie. Renesmee couldn't help but to wonder if all of the wizards were like this. Would they all act like Harry, or perhaps some muggleborns introduced their daily activities for them? At the end, Harry clapped formally, causing people around to look at him.

"That was amazing!" Harry breathed. "Oh, the perks of using technology..."

"People are staring!" Renesmee hissed as she took his headphone off. "You're too loud," She turned to face the annoyed passengers."I'm sorry."

A few grunted, but then went back to sleep. It was around midnight, after all. Renesmee hastily whispered to Harry, "Can't you be quiet?"

Harry also looked mildly annoyed. "It's not like I've experienced this before—"

"I know," She sighed. "Just—try to keep it down. Next, try Iron Man 2. Robert Downey Jr. looks hot in that one. Well, he always looks hot."

"I sense a fangirl around here," Harry sighed.

"I am _not _one of those crazy girls!" Renesmee exclaimed. "My little obsession of him is quite healthy, you know. Just watch it."

Harry scoffed, but again, followed her suggestion. While he didn't have unnecessary reaction like gasping and asking questions, his eyes stayed wide the whole time. Renesmee smiled to herself. He looked quite adorable. _Quite_, she emphasized, as she started her fifth book.

The book, called The Whizzbiez, was probably one of the best romance novel she had ever read. That's definitely saying something, since she'd read a lot of them. The book was different. The first twelve chapters completely made no sense—nargles? Wrackspurts?—and the author didn't even bother explaining those things, which only led to even more confusion. Renesmee had thought about giving it up, but there was something—something that kept her reading.

And she didn't regret it. In chapter thirteen, the boy finally came, and that's when the world turned much saner. The boy was described as a charming, happy-go-lucky boy with a mischievous air about him. He appeared to have no sense of privacy as he was always trying to peer into the girl's life. Renesmee loved their interaction—completely nonsense, yet indulging. None of them were gorgeous—they were simply beautiful as people. He changed the girl, even if he didn't know it until the very end, leaving the girl alone as the boy moved on with life.

She hated sad endings, but she didn't complain too much this time. "This is beautiful," She commented as she close the book.

"Harry?" She called out when he didn't answer.

But Harry's eyes were closed, headphones still on his ears. Carefully, she took them off, watching him shift under her touch. His lips were broadly parted, causing Renesmee to snort. He looked so innocent...

Renesmee felt the guilt again. How could she deceive him? Here he was, sleeping so innocently, not knowing the girl next to him wasn't exactly human. But how would it turn out if she told him the truth? Would he still be willing to take her along?

She severely doubted it. She gazed sadly at him, her hand raised to run it through the messy hair, but stopped mid-air in fear of waking him up. _Don't worry, _Renesmee solemnly promised. _In return, I'll protect you._

"Come on..." Renesmee's heart skipped a beat in alarm. "You can do it, Iron Man!"

And Renesmee laughed silently to herself as she drifted to sleep, feeling safe and sound.

* * *

**I think some of you might get the idea that I'd pair Ginny and Jacob. I don't know if some of you ship Ginny/Jacob or anything, but this is not going to happen in this story. First, it would be highly unrealistic. Harry gets with Renesmeee and Ginny suddenly happens to cross Jacob and I don't know, another imprint? Doesn't make sense. Just wanna clear a few things up, since a reader pointed out that she/he really hoped there won't be any Ginny/Jacob. Well, there won't.**

**Love it, hate it, let me know. Review Please!**


	5. Chapter 5 - Another Side Of The World

**For no reason, I just feel the need to point out that I pictured Renesmee as Melissa Benoist, because frankly, the CGI one is creepy. Not that it affects the story, though.**

**My beta actually took the time to edit a photo of Melissa Benoist! She's awesome. She really is!**

**s1087.****photobucket.****com/user/livelaffthighgap/media/nessie_zps4cb3a69a .****jpg.****html**

**(Delete every space after :/ and a fullstop to see it)**

**As usual, HUGE Thank You for everyone who reviewed! Eliana34, TNM-Writer, HPRulz21445, Dark Neko 4000, Penny is wise, ViolatedMonkey, immaNinjax00, moondanceluna, New Reader, amata0221, Wu Ji Fen, HexyMama, Aaron Leach, semexx, Aquaone, Flo des bois, PinkIsMyColor, OoOXylionOoO, Heliosion, DancingintheRayne, 0Harry. J. Potter0, Not-A-Jacob-Fan, Guests, uzumaki-kun, Eros Amor Black, AwesomelyMe2015 and Lutcy!**

**This one is a little bit longer than usual. I hope you don't find it boring, though.**

**Words count: ****5187**

* * *

**Huge thank you LadyLiterary for being the best beta ever! :D**

* * *

_She severely doubted it. She gazed sadly at him, her hand raised to run it through the messy hair, but stopped mid-air in fear of waking him up. __Don't worry, __Renesmee solemnly promised. __In return, I'll protect you._

_"Come on..." Renesmee's heart skipped a beat in alarm. "You can do it, Iron Man!"_

_And Renesmee laughed silently to herself as she drifted to sleep, feeling safe and sound._

* * *

**Chapter 5 - Another Side Of The World**

* * *

"We're going back."

Edward Cullen looked up to see his wife's hard face. He had known her far too much to miss the deep sadness behind her stern, strong façade. He didn't say anything, but stood up and pulled her into a tight hug. Edward sighed. Since when had she become so hard?

Oh, right. Since she became a mother.

It was quite amusing how parentage could change a person. Gone was the timid, clumsy girl Edward once knew. She was now a strong-willed, hard woman with an uptight air about her; especially about things regarding their daughter. Nevertheless, she was still the woman he loved, and as he had always said, nothing would change that. They sometimes differed in opinions regarding their daughter—Bella's frantic efforts to keep Renesmee in the "safe range", and Edward's own opinion on how their teenage girl should been given more options in her life. Silently, Edward couldn't help but think that he was right. Renesmee needed more options, she was a teenager, after all. Had Bella listened to him, Renesmee would probably still be around...

But Edward wouldn't say that aloud. At least not now, not when everyone was panicked.

The couple was currently in Southern America, searching for information on their daughter's whereabouts. This action had taken place three days after the teenager went missing—when the clan finally realized that she was not coming back. A day after she left, the Cullens had tried to track her scent, but the heavy rain that occurred the night before destroyed their chances. They managed to follow her scent until the southern Forks boundaries, and then it was gone. They then divided into three teams so the Cullens could contact their friends around the world about Renesmee. Unfortunately, no one had heard or seen of her.

_Was it wise?_ Edward wondered sadly, _to let her go like that?_

Edward didn't dare to hope for great news, so when the Cullens gathered in their living room after the quick travel, he wasn't too crushed to hear nothing new.

"Siobhan agreed to search around Ireland," Carlisle informed. "they promised not to tell anyone about it."

"The same goes for the Denali," Emmet spoke up.

"Alice, can't you try seeing into the future again?" Bella almost snapped, rubbing her temples. "Harder. There has to be something you can do! You really can't—"

"I can't," Alice answered, exasperated. "I tried, okay? A lot. I used to be able to look _around _her, but now I can't. It's pitch black, Bella. No buzz, no anything. Just black. I'm doing everything I—"

Bella's eyes flashed angrily. "You're not doing _enough_!"

"Bella," Edward stopped her. Her temper was endless these days—it was almost a matter of time before somebody got hurt.

She blinked a few times, which she always did that when she tried to calm herself. "I-I'm sorry, Alice."

Alice still looked distressed, but she gave her a small smile.

"I still doubt this plan," Rosalie intervened. "A bit counter-productive, isn't it? We have a big mass searching for her, yet we're trying to keep it a secret? It would be much better if we publicly searched for her and let everyone know about this. Much faster."

"That's asking for a conflict, Rose," Alice said. "We all know that the Volturi would _love _a chance like this to hurt us."

"But what can they do, really? She hasn't done anything wrong, at least by their standards," Esme chipped in.

"Volturi _is_ Volturi," Jasper said, as if that explained much. Strangely, it did. "Every little opening of ours is a Christmas gift for Aro."

"How's Jacob?" Edward asked, concerned.

The attention turned to the ones who came home first. Alice bit her lip."The last I heard, he was around New York. Leah's been trying to help him."

Bella broke the silence that followed Alice's statement. "Is he…any better?"

Alice sighed. "He's half alive, Bella."

Upon hearing this, no sound was heard but Bella's head snuggling to Edward's chest. As much as Edward had finally begun to care for Jacob, Jacob was his least priority at the moment. The seconds after Jacob admitted it, Edward had made him swear that Renesmee would _not _be forced to do anything. And Jacob kept his word. Edward had absorbed the tangled emotions in his head, and there was no animosity. Simply numbness. But how long would it last? Even Sam Uley had once given in to his wolf-temper that caused his wife's scar. How long would it take for Jacob to crave a claim on her?

Edward closed his eyes. A part of him regretted letting her go—as he originally thought that she simply needed time and would come back in a few hours. But she did not. And then horror struck him, the possibilities of Renesmee's actions. Would she come back? Would she listen if he begged her to? Would she at least _try _to love Jacob?

"I think we should stop this," Jasper said.

Rosalie threw him a look of disbelief. "No way."

"Put yourselves in her shoes," Emmet defended. "Would you like it to have a bunch of vampires searching for you, all around the world, when all you needed was time and privacy to think about everything?"

"But then what will we do?" Bella's eyes were full of tears that could never fall. "Wait for her? Until she comes back? What if something happens? What if someone takes advantage of her? What if she's caught by Joham, or worse, Volturi? What if—"

"Shh, Bella," Edward pulled her back to his arms. "It's going to be alright."

"What if she doesn't want to come home?"

Every head snapped to Jasper, who threw his hands in the air in surrender. "I'm thinking about the worst scenario here."

"I don't think so," Carlisle intervened, his voice soothing. "She's…Renesmee. She's still a child."

"Well, I think that the little kid doesn't want to come home," Emmet shrugged. "At least not now. But hey, she's half-vampire. She can take care of herself."

"It's not humans that we're worried of, Emmett," Edward finally said. "It's the Volturi."

"Which is why we have to keep quiet," Emmet's tone raised in excitement—he actually believed it would work. "If Renesmee encounters one Volturi, she won't be stupid enough to let them know she ran away. She can say that she's on vacation or something. And if they need proof, they can just ask us and we'll go with whatever Renesmee comes up with."

"This is insane," Emmett didn't look disturbed by Rosalie's snide comment. "Not going to work. Volturi will find a way to do something. They hate us—much more than before."

"I think we should keep searching," Edward said. He didn't want to give up just yet. "Discreetly. Not too much, and we won't need _everyone. _The search shouldn't be full-out, but done frequently. And if the Volturi asks us, we'll go with Emmet's plan."

Bella didn't miss a beat. "I don't agree."

Bella's statement led to a lot of discussions, which grew even more heated as the topic went further. And then, in the middle of the racket, Alice's eyes went unfocused.

No one else had noticed, not even Jasper, but Edward did. The vision was so short that it didn't even last a second. Alice's eyes went back to normal, before connecting with Edward's.

Really slowly, Alice shook her head. _Don't say anything. I'll do something._

What they saw in the vision was a pair of brilliant, _glowing_ green eyes.

* * *

"Excuse me, sir…sir.."

A voice, heavily accented, echoed in his mind. Harry's eyes opened hesitantly to find a Japanese stewardess smiling politely at him.

"Yes?" Harry asked, still half awake.

"We have arrived in Japan."

Oh. Right.

Harry wasn't the only one sleeping like dead, though. Renesmee was still sleeping, her head resting on his shoulder. Harry could smell the freesia scent from her bronze hair.

"Oi," Harry nudged her gently. "We've arrived."

Renesmee's eyes opened to stare right into his. They widened frantically before she stammered, "Huh?"

"We're here," Harry grinned. "We're in Japan!"

Upon seeing such a long line, Harry subtly casted another charm for their passport. That was one of his abilities that he was especially proud of. Even among the wizarding community, his work was difficult to trace. Renesmee seemed comfortable with all this "treachery", so everything went smoothly. They went into the bathroom and Disapparated outside the airport.

Renesmee had obviously never visited Japan before, as she gawked at the buildings that truthfully, weren't much different than the ones in her hometown. What he was excited for was the Wizarding community of Japan. He flicked his wand once to see the words _Pray Under A Magical Shrine In Japan_ sparkle in the air.

Since Harry's driving skill had increased quite significantly, Renesmee had reluctantly let him do the deed.

"So," Renesmee said, after she swallowed some potato chips they bought in a muggle market."How do we find them?"

"Japanese is a bit peculiar," Harry grinned. "They hide an entire island, here."

Renesmee observed the map Harry handed her. "The one marked with an 'x'?" Harry nodded. "Exactly at the north of Way-ca-ney..."

"Wakkanai," Harry corrected. "Study some Japanese unless you want to offend some people. There's a _Japanese: A Super Quick Guide To Actually Make It Useful_ in my bag."

Renesmee grumbled, but read the book anyway. This left Harry the silence he needed. It was not a comfortable silence, but Harry didn't mind, letting all things to pour on his head like a bucket of cold water.

So in the end, he decided to bring her along, Harry mused. Renesmee seemed like a pretty nice kid, albeit a little too loud. Harry somehow admired her grace—_just a little—_and the next second he would regret thinking that, seeing as the grace disappeared every time she spoke. Harry's judgment regarding her innocence was true, too. It was almost disturbing to Harry; the way that she ran around freely, as if she didn't expect danger to step out of every dark corner, or getting ready for a little opening to strike. Almost every wizard and witch was, still, wary of darkness.

Some would call Renesmee ignorant; the way she carried herself. Harry knew some of his subordinates that would look down at her in distaste before counting her left days to live. Such a foolish thing to do—to laugh happily without watching possible threats rising around you. Some would call it foolish, they would.

But Harry called her lucky.

As detrimental as it was, her company had felt comfortable. Harry found it refreshing to just lay down, staring at nothing while she sat beside him, tunes flowing beautifully out of her lips. The songs she sang always touched him in a way he himself couldn't understand. Harry could simply listen to it all day, read books with music in the background or drift off to sleep. Her voice was like her own version of magic.

Aside of that, what would Hermione think?

Hermione was the only person that would stand up for his choice now. It might sound awful that he seemed like that was the only reason he feared her to back off, but Harry couldn't imagine if she knew that there was now a little girl with him. Hermione herself had wanted so badly to go along with him, but Harry had bluntly refused. He didn't know what he was doing either. The moment when he found the innocence, he just didn't mind taking her along.

It felt like the right thing to do.

Hermione had texted him once, when he was still unconscious, a simple note asking how everything had been. Harry wanted to tell everything—Merlin knew Hermione would get the answers in seconds—but instead, he replied with a simple "I'm fine" which she hadn't replied until now.

"I'm hungry," Renesmee announced, dragging Harry back to his surroundings.

There was silence for awhile, before Harry's stomach growled.

Renesmee laughed. "Definitely time to eat, then. Where, oh where to eat?"

Since Renesmee won their little Rock, Paper and Scissors, Renesmee was the one to decide the lunch. Fortunately, she's got a pretty good taste; she chose nothing too fancy. Just a small, modest restaurant at an alley.

"I'll have a bowl of Udon, please," Harry said politely to the waitress, after reading the small menu in big letters, plastered on the wall. He turned to Renesmee. "You?"

"One Ramen and Sashimi, please."

Harry stared. "That's flawless."

She grinned cheekily. "I know that particular skill will come in handy."

Silence descended. This happened quite a lot—a moment when neither of them knew what to say. It wasn't uncomfortable for Harry, but apparently was for Renesmee. Harry always noticed the way she struggled to find anything to say.

"You know," She managed to say. Harry's head turned up to face her. _Whatever she was going to say should be interesting. _"We should get to know each other. I can ask one question, and then your turn, and then mine, and so on," Then she added hastily, "Just normal things—nothing too private."

"You're trying too hard, Renesmee."

Harry took the moment to enjoy the sight of her face blushing hard. "I—I—at least I try!"

"Okay, okay," Harry waved his hand dismissively, desperately trying not to laugh. "I can easily lie, and so can you. It doesn't make any sense."

"You don't believe in karma, do you?" She asked. Harry actually burst out laughing now. "What? Karma does exist, you know!"

"Fine," Harry covered his mouth with a hand, even though it didn't cover much, given that his shoulders shaking silently. "Okay, then it's my turn first."

Renesmee crossed her arms. "And why is it your turn first?"

Harry tilted his head, unable to hide the grin. "You want to play this or not? My turn first," He skillfully ignored her grumbles. "Alright, what's your favorite color?"

"I don't know. Changes everyday."

If it was possible, Harry's grin widened. This girl amused him to no end. "Really? What color is today then?"

Her brown eyes didn't leave him. She looked lost for a second, so quick that Harry almost thought he had imagined it, before replying, "Green. Emerald green."

Harry shrugged, the smile still on his lips. "Nice."

Renesmee looked confused for a moment. It was as if she was trying to be sure of something. She leaned back on her seat, her eyes downcast. After almost two weeks with her around, Harry still couldn't determine most of the meanings behind her expressions, being the little neurotic she was.

"What about you?" Renesmee's head suddenly snapped up. "What's your favorite color?"

"Sky blue, I guess," The answer was almost automatic. "It's…calming. Peaceful."

"Peaceful, really?" Renesmee nodded, even though she seemed to disagree. "I think I've had enough peace in my life. I want to shake things up a bit."

"Be careful what you wish for," Harry said quietly. "They might actually come true."

But it seemed Renesmee didn't notice the sentiment in his voice. After silence lasted for awhile, Harry decided to break it and storm her with questions. And they still continued this little game of hers as the food arrived. She looked genuinely pleased by Japanese cuisine, even went as far to directly compliment the chef, who seemed a little fazed by her actions—or probably by something entirely different.

Though he was a bit skeptical at first, this questions game eased the uncomfortable tension a bit, breaking the thin glass between them. Harry realized that her smiles were now more genuine, unlike the fake, bright smile she used to flash him in order to convince him to let her ride along. Her features were also less rigid, less choreographed. Even though she still had the unbelievable grace, she seemed much more relaxed.

From those little questions, Harry learned a few things about Renesmee. From small insignificant things like her hobbies that consisted drawing, dancing and singing and her constant hatred for Physics, which Harry couldn't understand. If he were the one with photographic memory, he would memorize every subject in this world and be happy about it. She also was generally a normal teenage girl inside. She loved good-looking boys singing and dancing, contently fangirling over such trivial matters. While Harry resented fangirls with all his being, he could make an exception this time. Just as long as she wasn't going to fangirl over him.

Renesmee was also really accepting to the extent that it was worrying. Harry didn't know what made him do it, but he told her about the Dursleys, his years at Hogwarts—with the exception of the seventh year. The rule ask-and-I'll-answer was immediately forgotten; soon, they were babbling about their lives, with Harry leaving out some gruesome details. Harry never opened up to strangers, but somehow, he did, and felt damn good about it.

After the lunch, they continued their little journey rather quickly, only stopping when Renesmee found a huge electronic store. Harry had warned her about the high possibility of electronic devices destroyed in places with high magic intensity—but she didn't budge. In result, she bought a small music player with _his _money. How that happened, Harry didn't really know.

However, with the red music player, Harry didn't have to hear Renesmee nagging about the horrible music on the radio. It was better, Harry supposed, as it lightened the mood. They dashed across the road, with such freakish speed that Renesmee speculated that they would arrive there in one night. Hearing this, Harry relaxed beside her, his head rested peacefully on the low seat headrest, his body covered in a comfy thick blanket. As Renesmee sang a slow song beside him, he was about to drift off to sleep when his phone rang.

He heard Renesmee snorted beside him. "That tune is ridiculous."

"It's a reminder of my mentor. He's dead," Harry mumbled lazily, before he realized Renesmee froze. "Hey, don't get all tense. It's okay, you didn't know."

"I guess," She murmured. "I just didn't realize—just how dark your past seems to be."

Harry shrugged. He didn't really want to tell that significant part to her. It might be common sense—as you don't just walk up to people and tell them you're a war-torn savior of the magical world—or a simple fear of her reactions, he didn't know either. He said nothing, and neither did she. He took this silence to check his mobile phone.

_How are you, Harry? Are you in America yet?_

_Harry, you're okay? I've been trying to call you for weeks, but it just won't connect._

_Harry, call me when you can, okay?_

Harry stared at his mobile phone in amusement, reading the messages Hermione had sent him. He tried to call her, but the line went off every time he tried._ I need a new owl, _Harry sighed. He couldn't mourn over Hedwig forever. He needed to buy a new owl at some point. Maybe he could look for one once they arrived, but Harry wasn't really sure.

He turned to see Renesmee, whose head was nodding rapidly to the beat of the music. He didn't know why, but a small smile tugged on his lips as his eyes drifted shut, leaving the conscious world.

* * *

Renesmee's prediction was right. They were in Wakkanai by the morning, with Harry still sleeping by her side. She nudged him gently, but he suddenly jerked awake that she was startled for a moment, before smiling to herself. The night before, Harry had specifically told her to go to the northern shore. So there they were, with the engine off as the wind blew smoothly along with the blue waves of the sea.

"Can we stay here for awhile?" Renesmee looked hopefully at Harry, who was still contemplating his surroundings.

Harry didn't even glance at her pathetic puppy-dog eyes attempt. "No. We'll go to Hawaii at some point anyway. Better keep moving."

Even though she was outright rejected, Renesmee beamed. "Really? I've always wanted to go to Hawaii!"

"Yeah," Harry mumbled, seemingly still half-awake.

Harry shrunk the car before he gestured her to tag along. She followed him as they walked side by side along the beach line, walking rather slowly for even human rate that Renesmee was tempted to dash to wherever they were going that would probably only take seconds. After seven minutes walking, they stopped in front of a small cottage that was awfully close to the sea water. Half of the cottage was built on the surface, with four wood poles on every side that looked that they might break soon. But of course, they had to blatantly ignore the 'CLOSED' sign as Harry opened the door.

Renesmee shouldn't be so surprised to see that it was rather spacious and so crowded.

Harry shook his head in amusement. "What is it with wizards and bars?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, in London, the gate to Diagon Alley is also located in a bar."

Harry left her to talk with an old man behind the bar and came back awhile later, gesturing her to follow him with giddiness in his every movement. Renesmee couldn't blame him—she was even more excited than he was, but she was better at containing it; he looked like a little school girl.

Apparently, the gate was hidden in one of the bathroom doors. To be exact, the fourth from the corridor they came in. The door opened with no problem, revealing a clear blue sky and the calm ocean. There was nothing else at first, but in a few seconds later a huge wooden bridge slowly became visible without a sound, along with a grand island that the bridge connected to.

"Wow," Renesmee breathed.

"Yeah," Harry agreed, before tugging her to run along with him.

Renesmee laughed as both of them ran across the bridge, not really sure why. At that time, she didn't even mind with the slow speed. The blowing wind, the blue sky and the deep blue ocean seemed to have some effects on her, making her feel restless. The sound of the crashing waves called to her to dive in, just to feel the cold water against her skin. But she remembered what Harry had promised her; Hawaii. She could wait.

It didn't make sense how both of them could be so gleeful at that time, looking at the island like a grand prize, sometimes staring at each other with huge grins on their faces. And Renesmee sang; it had been some kind of a routine for the past few weeks. In order to make this journey 'movie-like' Renesmee and Harry had agreed that whenever the situation demanded, Renesmee would sing—sometimes dance—and Harry would try to copy her move and fail miserably.

When they arrived at the island, they were not disappointed. The island was far bigger than it seemed. Filled with Japan's traditional houses and buildings, it almost seemed like a muggle place of Japan with magical ornaments around the town. As they walked under the glittering "Welcome To Japan" that circled the bridge, they could immediately see the town crowded with natives clothed with traditional bright-colored _yukata_. The huge crowd made it so hard to move around without stumbling into people, the town drown in its dynamic business. There was also instrumental—with a Japanese feel to it—music playing that made the sight even more lively.

"We definitely need to buy those clothes," Renesmee's eyes followed the teenage girls that wore different-colored _yukata_ with keen jealousy.

"Then a shopping spree is in order then," Harry said as he poked the grilled grasshopper, smiling at the merchant politely as he tried one.

Renesmee's amazed look turned disgusted as she realized what it was. "Grilled grasshopper? You can't be serious?"

"There's also a boiled lizard at your right."

Renesmee immediately dragged Harry away from that stand and they moved along to the bookstore. Harry bought some English-translated Japanese books on history, tourism guides, laws; and fashion magazine for Renesmee, who beamed for the gesture. They also stopped at Potions whose owner was a Potions Professor in Mahoutokoro, the Wizarding School in Japan. Harry and the old woman chatted as he skimmed through and bought many foreign potions while Renesmee could only stare around in wonder, looking like an idiot.

Harry seemed unsure as they stood in front of Wizard's Pet Emporium. Renesmee asked him about it, but he shook his head, and Renesmee didn't dare to push. Finally Harry entered with heavy breath as Renesmee tried some of the foods and sweets around the Emporium with rational choices of food that wouldn't make her stomach protest. After half an hour that felt like the eternity for Renesmee, Harry came back with a vile-looking brown owl.

"Name him?" Harry asked her, his face unreadable.

Renesmee was itching to ask him—but instead, she protested idly, "I don't even know how wizards name their owls."

"Give him a human name then. Please."

Renesmee's brain raced for a while for some American names. What should she name the owl? She wanted Harry to name it himself, so that he would at least be comfortable with it.

Then she heard a mother shouting to her son.

"Shinji," Renesmee echoed what the mother had called her kid. "How does that sound?"

A dark cloud passed Harry's face again, before he breathed, a small relieved smile forming on his lips. "Perfect."

"Now, Shinji. Come back to me in a few hours, okay?"

Renesmee's mouth fell opened in disbelief as her eyes followed the brown owl circled them, charging towards the sky. "You just—just let it go like that?"

"Him," Harry corrected. "Don't insult their intelligence. They won't like it."

Hearing the sentiment in her voice, she eventually couldn't help it anymore. "What is it with you and owls? Your first pet died or something?"

Harry froze for awhile, and Renesmee tensed in alarm when she realized she'd said the wrong thing. She saw his eyes darken, and fear crept up on her guts as she waited for his outburst. Involuntarily, she cringed—she didn't know why, but she turned her eyes to the ground, unable to look at him.

But there was nothing but silence. And a hand; that softly ruffled her hair. She looked up to gaze into Harry's brilliant green eyes, who was surprisingly smiling kindly.

"I'll tell you later, okay? Come on, you said that you want to look for a _yukata_."

Renesmee brightened as she released the breath she was holding. Because of relief that he wasn't mad, the fact that he wanted to take her shopping, or the feeling that filled her chest when he ruffled her hair…she didn't know. All she knew that she felt happiest she'd ever been on their little journey. Renesmee followed him to a shop, that was considerably the most elegant-looking shop on the street. She heard Harry quietly sigh as she excitedly explored the sets of _yukata_. She found many cute ones, but her eyes fell on a sky-blue _yukata _with dark blue strips on it.

_It's calming. Peaceful._

Renesmee tried to stabilize her rapidly beating heart, or at least decrease the blush on her face. She didn't know what she was doing, but she went outside, fully clothed in the sky-blue _yukata_. She took a deep breath before she approached Harry, who was busy reading a book.

"What do you think, Harry?" She asked, trying to feign nonchalance.

Harry looked up from the book, and when his eyes laid on her, she chewed the insides of her mouth nervously. _Is it that obvious? _She almost panicked when his eyes didn't move for a few seconds. But then he grinned. "You look good."

Renesmee breathed a laugh, mentally chastising herself for acting so stupid. Then she dragged him along, ignoring his protests as she forced him to find another _yukata_ for himself, as Renesmee so elegantly put it, 'to blend in with the natives'. And when he finally did, he surprised her with a dark blue _yukata_ with a few kanji words printed on it. She expected him to pick the sky-blue one, but the dark blue _yukata_ seemed to look really good at him.

When they got out, the streets were crowded and hard to get through. Apparently, the town was so jam-packed because there was a Firework Festival that night. Hearing this, both of them couldn't resist and had to go to the place that the natives said was the best place to watch the Fireworks from. It was at the river side, and was considerably crowded. Both of them had acquired red round candies named Blood Pops—apparently they were also sold in Hogsmeade—that floated around them like a snitch, and the wings are the best part. And even though it wasn't really made from blood, Renesmee felt content with it. The two of them sat, feeling the slightest bit of fatigue as they stared at the blasting Fireworks in the sky, coloring the night with unbelievable energy.

"It's beautiful," Harry breathed.

"Yeah," Renesmee couldn't help but to agree.

Both of them just sat there for awhile, contemplating the beautiful sight peacefully. Renesmee rested her head on Harry's shoulder and immediately felt relieved when Harry didn't seem to mind. The moment was so serene and so perfect; Renesmee didn't want it to end. She could sit there all night, just watching the Fireworks in front of them. And Harry beside her, sucking his Blood Pop until it was the size of a thumb.

Suddenly Renesmee heard Harry's phone vibrating in Harry's pocket, and knew he felt it too when he moved slightly. He excused himself to answer the call, leaving Renesmee alone.

She maniacally sucked the Blood Pops so she could beat Harry once he got back. She also had the advantage of super speed, which came in handy. As she was sucking the sweet Pops, she heard a low, albeit clear, voice.

"Cullen, isn't it?"

Renesmee automatically turned around, her eyes widened when she spotted the owner of the voice. Behind her stood a pale-skinned Japanese man wearing a regular black _yukata_, smirking at her. But that wasn't what made her frozen.

It was the blood-red eyes that were staring right into her own.

* * *

**Anyone wanna guess what's the deal with this vampire? ;)**

**A reader asked if Harry and Renesmee would get together. Well, yes, they would. I'm sorry for faithful Hinny and Jacob/Nessie fans, but that's the way it is since I first planned the story :)**

**By the way, if you have any questions, just ask. I'll answer my best! And any constructive criticism is most definitely welcomed, but a simple statement of what you thought of it would be great too. I also don't mind flames.**

**Love it, hate it, let me know. Review Please!**


	6. Chapter 6 - Playing The Hero

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**Words count: 4689**

* * *

**Thank you LadyLiterary for beta'ing this mess!**

* * *

_"Cullen, isn't it?"_

_Renesmee automatically turned around, her eyes widened when she spotted the owner of the voice. Behind her stood a pale-skinned Japanese man wearing a regular black yukata, smirking at her. But that wasn't what made her frozen._

_It was the blood-red eyes that were staring right into her own._

* * *

**Chapter 6 – Playing The Hero**

* * *

"Yes, Hermione, I really miss you too.."

The terrible quality of Hermione's voice was drown in the middle of various civilians chattering around him, covering her voice almost completely that all he could decipher was strangled words, as he tried to get past the tight crowd. When he finally managed to find a rather quiet place on the top of a motel near the west river bank, approximately twenty meters high—the Potion shop's owner suggested the highest place around to get more signal—Hermione's hoarse words finally transformed into a coherent speech, albeit a little unclear.

As he gazed at the beautiful clear sight of the vibrant town, he couldn't help but to regret not coming here with Renesmee in the first place.

"—ry, you're not listening, are you?"

Harry sighed as he slowly sat on the edge of the fence, his feet slowly swaying in the air. "I just found a high place. A civilian suggested it'll sound clearer."

"Oh. You know, I think I figured out why I couldn't call you before. You see, I just realized that we made the prototype to work _by _magic, so I figured it won't even turn on with no magical source. I could send texts because of your magic, but a human's magic isn't resourceful enough to attempt a phone call."

"Oh, yeah, that makes sense," Harry mumbled absent-mindedly as his eyes locked with the colorful lights in the sky, enjoying the night breeze again in her skin.

Then Hermione started to blabber about the lives Harry had left in Britain, telling him everything she could think of. Bill just found out about Fleur's pregnancy, who was beyond ecstatic, and planned to name the up-coming newborn Louis, or if a girl, Victoire. Charlie still hadn't found any girl that led suspicions that he was either secretly gay, asexual, or simply too busy with dragons. George planned to open a new branch of joke shop in French—which every Weasley knew that it was a well-thought plan to flirt with Fleur's cousin. Arthur was working on a secret project that he refused to tell everyone but his wife, who for once, supported his project.

Harry was quiet for awhile. "And Ginny?"

"She's been pretty busy lately.. She said she's preparing for a huge match."

"Really? What match?"

"You know I don't look into Quidditch, Harry," Hermione snorted. "Hey.. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Harry nodded, not really believing his own words. "I think I'll manage. By the way, I just bought a new owl. I'll send a few letters tomorrow. A Japanese one. Renesmee named him Shinji."

"Renesmee?"

Harry blinked a few times before stopped moving completely.

"I.. Well, it's—" Harry raked his brain to find an acceptable and logical reason for his actions in the past few weeks, his eyes moving frantically. "Listen, I was just—"

But the words died on his lips when his eyes spotted the oddly fast movement of the blue little light on the silver magical wristwatch strapped on his right hand. The muggle-looking wristwatch itself was one of his best equipment, given by the ministry themselves; one of their biggest project in invention department, where Hermione still considered moving into. He had non-verbally put a tracking charm on Renesmee when they arrived in Japan—a simple, standard precaution. There were only two kinds of light that the wristwatch was currently showing: the green one who was unmoving on the spot, and the blue one, who was moving in an insanely fast pace towards the north.

"Hey, I'll call you later, okay?" Harry said. Not even responding to Hermione's confused protests, he cut the connection off.

"Muffliato."

And then Harry leapt. He welcomed the feel of wind as he opened his arms widely, adrenaline jolted his body awake like electrocution, ignoring the bewildered gasps. Adrenaline had always worked well with Harry, in a sense that he himself could not understand. His eyes closed, as he focused himself, pushing his arms against his body, shooting downwards like a bullet. Then when his heartbeat increased significantly, his eyes snapped open, emerald blazing.

Then the familiar sensation came. The feeling of gravity pulling towards him was replaced with the sickening feeling of being pushed by every direction, before he finally appeared at a dark, quiet forest, where the fireworks seemed so far away, but still visible. The blue light was already one hundred meters or so ahead of him—_Damn, _Harry cursed. _How the hell could she move so fast?_

This was one of the times when he felt like an idiot to act so emotional. Why didn't he buy a broom? A bloody broom should help him get them in a minute!

Harry closed his eyes again, receiving the sensation he hated so much, as he appeared one kilometer ahead of the blue light. Ironically, he had arrived at a dead-end—a shore, eerily quiet with the sound of wave crashing. Therefore, after he made sure to put a Disillussionment charm on himself, he waited as he leaned against a tree, eyes staring the blue light approaching. Five, four, three, two, one..

And appeared out of the forest was white-faced Renesmee. Harry stood frozen in his place—she was alone. She was moving _that _fast alone. He had expected her to _be moved _or carried by an exceedingly fast creatures like Vampires, but she had proved him wrong. Harry started to feel stupid feeling like being punch in the gut, but he swallowed whatever that feeling was. All he wanted to do now was to find out—how he could be so stupid to be fooled, how long she had planned this, or how much of it was a lie.

Harry shook his head forcefully to watch the scene in front of him. Two pale creatures—undoubtedly Vampires—invaded, took the moment of her desperation to circle her.

_What the bloody hell is she?_

"You don't get it, do you? You may be one of a kind, but you're simply not strong enough!" The female Vampire said, her thin features and mean, twisted smile reminded Harry of Mrs. Black.

"Or fast enough," The male Vampire, probably her mate, licked his lips. "Imagine what they will reward us, dear Miyuki?"

"Oh, it will be grand, dear Hashi," The woman laughed a vile laugh. "But we won't do that. We'll avenge him ourselves, won't we? For our dear Toshiro?"

"Poor Toshiro," Hiashi's eyes flashed. "He deserved much more.. Our soft-hearted, coward of a brother. But no. We will take her to Volturi."

"We certainly will not," The woman's eyes flashed in the same, eerie way the other did. "We will avenge him ourselves! I will not let that satisfaction taken away by those arrogant fools!"

"Peace, Miyuki. This is our chance to bring back the Fuzename's glory. This is our chance to shine once more!"

At that point, Harry completely ignored what the Japanese Vampires were talking about. He had his eyes locked on Renesmee, who was slightly trembling in the middle of two—possibly ancient—Vampires bickering. She was trying to look brave, but Harry knew better. Yet Harry didn't move from his spot—he stared, like a still statue, at Renesmee who was slowly trying to move away from the distracted Vampires. Harry didn't know what kept him on the ground. Why didn't he just leave?

When Harry finally moved from his spot, he decided to find out himself. Why she lied, and the truth behind her every word. He would find it, decipher every meaning behind it, and learn the truth that she had covered quite professionally from him. He wanted to her to tell him. He wanted to know why.

He could ignore all of her lies now. He could play the hero—like he always did.

"You two are a bit creepy, aren't you?"

Three heads snapped up to where he was standing now, the Disillusionment charm deactivated. He ignored the baffled look on Renesmee's face, instead, focusing on the two dangers in front of him.

"A Wizard?" Hiashi said, sounding a bit amused.

"How did you get here?" Miyuki's voice, unlike Hiashi's, sounded harsh and hurried. "And why?"

"Let's just say that I'm feeling kind today," Harry smiled, pointing his wand at them. "I'm into playing heroes."

"Arrogant, ne?" Miyuki sneered. "Then you should be able to take us!"

Contrary to what the woman had just said, Hashi didn't move. He stood casually beside Renesmee, obviously shielding her. The woman sneered again before suddenly disappeared, and out of hunch, Harry cried out, "PROTEGO MAXIMA!"

Miyuki was shoved a few meters at Harry's right, and this time, her eyes weren't full of anger. It was of maniacal glee. "Paranoid one, ne?"

"Thank you."

"You know what our clan's proud of?" Miyuki smirked. "Speed. Our insane speed—even faster than other Vampires. Mortals like you stand no chance."

This time Harry didn't answer. With his barrier still strong, he tried to find the best way to kill them. Harry desperately wanted to cast a Fiendfyre, but Renesmee was in the way. Harry growled in frustration. Incendio would be too slow and timid. Fiendfyre—fierce and fast—was the kind of fire he needed, but the power was too overwhelming to control. It was either do nothing or destroy everything.

"Petrificus Totalus! Impedimenta! Protego! Rectumsempra!" Harry bellowed. "Protego! Reducto! Incendio! IMPEDIMENTA!"

"Wizards are such wimps, ne?" Miyuki maliciously teased as she danced around, looking unfazed by Harry's rapid attempts. "Makes me wonder just how weak those soldiers who died in Britain must've been."

Harry froze, his eyes wide.

"Oh, of course I know! " Miyuki winked. "I can see that scar of yours miles away, Savior. Ministry of Japan wouldn't shut up about it. I'm surprised that those Japanese wizards didn't notice you—perhaps it has something to do with you covering your scar? Such a modesty," She stared at him appreciatively, circling him. "Such a pity. You're quite attractive too. But dear, wizards' blood is the best."

The shrill laugh flowing out of the woman's lips made Harry's anger flared, boiling in his every vein.

"ACCIO FIREWORK!"

Bolts of colors shot through the sky, arriving in such a sudden move that Harry had a little time to disapparate to the other side of the shore. The maddening sound of explosion pounded harshly against his ears, even when he was already in a reasonably safe distance. His head still spinning, he stared at the puff of black smoke swirling to the center of the sky, the others nowhere to be found.

"It takes a lot more than a simple trick to kill me, boy."

And he was thrown in the air, his stomach hurled because of the impact with the woman's leg. Resting a hand on his stomach, he flipped in the air, right-timed to safely land with his feet, keeping the stance. Ignoring the taste of iron in his mouth, he kept his barrier back.

Harry smirked. "Your right hand."

"Don't get too cocky," Miyuki snapped. "I can attach it back."

"No, you can't," Harry retorted, not missing a beat. "80% of Magical Firework is flame. Look at your hand—you can't feel it anywhere, can you? Can't you see the ashes falling off your detached hand? It's gone for good."

Miyuki screamed—an inhuman, high-pitched scream that sent a chill down Harry's spine. Her eyes were burning in outrage, and she charged towards him blindly, her detached arm unmoving like a broken doll. Her attempt, to her absolute anger, was in vain, as Harry kept his barrier. Harry took his chance to glance at Renesmee who was thankfully still whole. To Harry's absolute surprise, she was putting a good fight against Hashi.

An appreciative, somehow proud, smile crept to his face, his eyes locked on Renesmee who seemed to be locking the Vampire's head with all her might.

"DON'T GET COCKY, YOU MORTAL!"

The barrier broke; Harry's eyes widened as he stared at the Vampire charging at him, as if in a slow motion, yet his body was unable to move. The next second, he was sent flying again. The shore seemed further away as he tried to breathe through his broken ribs, but before he even had the time for that, the woman appeared right before his eyes to deliver another devastating kick to his ribcage; he could see his own blood spat out of his mouth mid-air, before he dashed into salty water, so fast that he had no time to react to the coldness that suddenly warped him.

Bubbles of air flowed out of Harry's mouth as a strong hand gripped his neck, so tight that he couldn't feel his ears, all he could see was darkness spinning around his vision as his body started to lay limp..

Then brilliant, _glowing_ emerald snapped opened.

* * *

Damn Volturi.

Damn them. Damn them all.

Renesmee half-cringed when she managed to evade the Vampire's blow, who looked almost as frustrated as she was. Hashi's vision was now controlled by Renesmee—but his other senses were controlled amazingly by himself. It didn't help much by that Renesmee had to touch him in order to blindfold him.

She growled, frustrated. It was the truth—she was not skilled at all. Being protected all her life made her feel safe, made her felt that there was nothing but drama and family. Perhaps an ordinary life was too much to ask, but shouldn't she be trained to fight? Shouldn't her parents educate her to defend herself? With such a useless talent, she was going through hell for her below-average speed and physical strength.

Her thoughts faltering, she wasn't ready for a series of violent punches that sent her to the air. Her teeth gritted together, her stomach hurt to the extent that she felt the taste of iron in her mouth—_was it even possible?_

In the back of her mind, she was amazed by Harry's dueling skills. Renesmee had to move really fast to evade the firework, an amazing feat even if Hashi wasn't hurt at all. He was another person in battlefield—gone the kind, understanding smile, replaced with focused power erupting from his seemingly feeble wand. He didn't even falter when he coughed blood—a lot of times.

And it was all her fault.

She couldn't erase the dread on her throat, the tears that fall from her eyes, both of pain and worry. Harry had been delivered a vicious kick that could murder in a single blow, only to fall down the ocean, followed by the evil woman. In the sea, he was done. All of his advantages were gone, and there was no other thing but death waiting for him down there. Renesmee couldn't move—the lump on her throat refused to be swallowed down, as her knees lost their power to stand.

It was pathetic. To need to be protected even in times like this.

_Move. Please. Move._

"Oh, don't be so sad, little one," Hashi cooed, his smugness evident in his voice as his arms locked around her neck. "I'm not as vicious as my dearest sister. I'll leave you in the hands of authority, even though I'm not sure what will happen with your boyfriend. But knowing my sister, she'll probably mutilate him before she drinks him off—"

_Move. Do something. Anything._

"—for my sister was the finest of the finest, not only a fighter, but also an artist. She would draw her blood in the name of art and Fuzename—"

"HARRY!"

The ocean exploded.

As if answering her call, a shadow shot from the dark blue sea, spinning towards the sky. The sight was illogical—the ocean rotated, swirled, following the patterns of the shadow as the blinding blue beam covered her visions, a somehow familiar, deafening sound of jet pounding on her ears. Then like a shooting star, the shadow, covered by a blazing blue fire, leapt to land on the sands.

Then the blue fire emitting from the shadow exsiccated, from the tips of his hands to the centre of his chest, moving obediently like servers to their masters. It was when the figure was recognizable—the dark, messy hair, the scar on his forehead, with a pair of emerald eyes _glowing_ in the dark night.

But they were not what made Renesmee immobile. There was something she just couldn't explain—something that made her unable to react, her eyes wide with unreasonable fear. There was something that her breath caught in the back of her throat, a pressure so powerful that she could barely stand.

On his right hand, there was Misaki's head.

As she heard a strangled choke from her back, she took the moment to spin, locking her arms around him with his body still pressed against her back. She closed her eyes, before putting all her power to both of her hands, finishing the last opponent with a deafening crack.

Her knees abruptly lost their powers. She went still, breathing hard, still trying to contemplate what had just happened. Meanwhile, Harry lit a fire and burn the heads, and Renesmee could only watch the bewildered wide eyes staring right at her from the flame.

"You're okay?" His voice said, sounding a little bit distant.

She could only nod.

"Come on," Harry took her in his arms with a surprising ease. "We should find a place to sleep."

Renesmee nodded against his chest. She hated this feeling, whatever that feeling was. She felt so tired, so disgusting, so vile that her sole existence was a sin. The lifeless, bewildered eyes stared at her every time she closed her eyes, and she could only let the tears flowing out of her eyes helplessly.

Harry managed to book a room at a hotel despite the lateness, so they went straight to the room. The room looked comfy, with two single beds, a fireplace with a nice-looking sofa in front of it. There was a music playing in the background, which she didn't recognize.

Harry put her down on a sofa, somehow managing to get both of them a cup of hot chocolate for each of them. They sat there for a while, staring at the fire in front of them, the sound of woods cracking eased her.

"Wh—what was that?"

Harry seemed to understand what she was trying to ask, as his grip on the cup tightened until it trembled, setting Renesmee on alarm. "I don't know," He whispered, almost incoherently, his eyes turning empty and distant as if he wasn't there. "I don't know. I just can't, alright? I can't remember anything—"

"Harry, Harry, it's okay," Renesmee's hands moved to hold his face, soothing both his and her increasing fears. "It's okay.. Everything's gonna be okay.."

Harry's heavy breathing eased, getting to slower pace in the same motion as his steadily beating heart. She wasn't going to lie; she was entirely afraid, of what happened, of _what _had actually killed the woman down there.

But Harry shook his head. He removed her hands off his face, not harshly, but still stung all the same. She watched from the corner of her eyes as Harry tried to calm his temper, that both of them now knew, like a ticking bomb. His tight grip released, as he tried to move his fingers naturally, trying to cope with the situation.

"I'm sorry," Renesmee finally croaked out, her eyes half-closed. "For causing this. For lying."

Harry took a sip, his face indifferent. "_What_ are you?"

"Half-Vampire, half-human," Renesmee's lips barely moved. "Conceived by my mother when she was still human."

Harry nodded. "Didn't know it could even happen."

"Yeah, no one else thought it was possible either."

"So you're not really a squib?"

"No."

"Was that your first?"

Renesmee finally found the courage to actually look at him. "My first what?"

"Kill," Harry answered and blood immediately drained off Renesmee's face. "Was that your first kill?"

Renesmee blinked back a few tears, chastising herself for being such a crybaby. Then her head nodded twice, small but evident. Harry seemed to expect this answer. "Well, I won't say it's right, but it's necessary."

Renesmee dumbly nodded again.

After a heavy silence that lasted for a minute, Harry eventually said, "I hate lies."

And she went still.

She should've anticipated the consequences. It should've been clear from the very start that it would end like this—because all of her lies were going to stab her back in the end.

"I hate being lied to. So much that it had greater impact on me than anything else."

"I'm sorry," Renesmee gasped, tears overflowing her eyes like river, standing up. "I-I'll go now. I won't bother you anymore. Thank you so much for—"

But his hand held hers tightly. "And how do you plan on going on? You don't have either passport or money."

"I'll find a way," She tried to smile, but it turned into a really ugly grimace, added by her red face and tears that felt salty on her tongue.

"Look," Harry pulled her hand to sit beside him again. "I hate being lied to. So much that I'm afraid of it. But I won't make the same mistake twice. I've let someone go, out of my bloody fears, and I still regret it until this very second. Back then, I have promised to myself, that I will never let someone I care for walk out of my life again."

Renesmee could only stare, wide-eyed, into the pair of green eyes that had warmth in them, his lips formed a kind smile that she did not deserve.

"Besides, you and I could be there for each other, right?" He grinned. "I need one hell of a singer as a friend to count on."

Harry pulled her into a tight, warm hug. He didn't complain about her tears wetting his shirt, or the annoying sobs she kept on choking. He didn't seem to notice her rapid heartbeat either. All he did was wrapping his arms around her, letting her breathe his scent that calmed her somehow.

When the faint scent of blood invaded her nose, she sat up. "Your ribs! Oh, god, how can I forget—"

"No, no, that's fine," Harry waved his hand. "It's nothing, really—"

"How can it be nothing?" Without consent, she pulled his _yukata _open, only to find a smooth, defined packs behind the robes. She desperately hoped she wasn't blushing right now. "There's—there's no blood. It's as if you weren't hurt.."

"I think it has something to do with the 'comes back alive' thing when we crashed weeks ago," Harry reluctantly said. "I don't know. I don't want to talk about this right now," He sat, and she automatically positioned herself beside him, as they both slurped the hot chocolate, a bit hesitantly, on Renesmee's part. "So why did you lie?"

His voice neither sound accusing, nor had any anger in it, but it still jabbed her all the same. "Because if I didn't, you wouldn't take me with you."

"Oh, I would," Harry shrugged, and Renesmee's eyes moved to stare at him in surprise. "I'm never the prejudiced type. My godson is half-human, half-werewolf, you know."

Renesmee's lips formed a small smile as she breathed, "You have a godson?"

"Yeah. Named him Teddy Lupin. He's a metamorphogus—a wizard who's born with shape-shifting talent. He can change into literally anything he wants," Harry gushed, looking proud. "Last time I saw him, his hair's green. The next time, I'm betting on blue."

"Why don't you bring him along?"

His face turned a bit lonely. "Well, he's still two, and I'm running around facing dangers. Beside, he's got his grandma taking care of him.. I just can't take Teddy away, not after what Andromeda had lost.."

And then they talked. Opening up the lock that kept their problems inside, letting it out that took a great deal of bravery, especially on Harry's part. She wasn't good at feelings, but Harry listened patiently, disagreeing with some of her harsh decisions. Yet his eyes were never judging. Never resentful, never disgusted at her childish endeavors.

Renesmee felt her teenager problems were nothing compared to the ones of a war-veteran's, but Harry denied that.

"Everyone is different. There's no greater grief—there's just feelings, and we all have tasted sadness on our own."

Renesmee just loved listening to him, hearing tales that were somewhat heart-breaking, humorous and amazing at the same time. He would speak, and she would listen. That was when she realized that he was a conqueror; a leader. Someone that had been through so much, lost too many things for the kind deeds he had done. Someone that could smile when remembering his dark past as if it was normal. And over all of it, he, somehow, managed to stay out of the darkness.

_Someone to look up to_, Renesmee smiled softly as she stared at the fire in front of him that didn't hate her anymore.

* * *

"You. Have. Failed?"

The sheer anger dripping in his voice caused the room's inhabitants to wince. The shabby-looking man, yet still managed to look quite handsome in his state of turmoil, had his ruby eyes looking frantically around the room. No one had missed the sight of the terrific death of an innocent Vampire girl. No one had dared to question him either.

"I GAVE YOU FOOLS ONE JOB AND YOU DIDN'T SUCCEED?"

"Please, my lord," One of the bystanders pleaded, swallowing his pride to kneel. "We assumed that the Japanese would be up to the task—"

"DON'T GET ALL ROYAL-FREAKS ON ME!" The man exploded, his eyes bulging out. "I AM NOT THE SAME WITH THOSE ARROGANT MONKEYS. I AM THE CONQUEROR. THE BETTER, THE GREATER. I AM HIGHER, THE HIGHEST OF BEINGS—"

"Sir," The woman from the back of the room intervened, knowing that their master had such a temper. "Please, you need to stay calm."

The man nodded repeatedly, already acknowledging this fact. He snapped his own neck to both directions with a loud crack, leaving the room silent as the others waited for him. His body jerked once, before his eyes rolled to both separate sides, as he bent his body inhumanly. Then he stood up, as if nothing had happened, and his underlings did exactly the same.

His fingers moved slowly, his eyes closed; an expression the others had known for too long. Then he snapped open his eyes, a smile forming on his lips. "Since the Japanese clan wasn't capable of the mission, then they are not worthy," Greed glinted in his eyes. "Take two of their heads to me. If possible, bring their chests."

"Y-yes, my lo—sir."

The man swiftly turned to his right. "Galene?"

"Yes, sir?"

A proud smile crept up to his face; a foreboding sign of a glorious plan. "Do you think the Egyptians would be up for this task?"

"Highly debatable, sir. But I knew some that we could use."

"Esther, contact the available ones. Tell them what we require."

"Yes, sir," A woman, dressed in the same way of the leader, gave him a thumbs-up as she continued her work.

After casual snarky comments on his underlings' incompetence, the leader almost cheerfully left the room, his white cloak moved silently as he walked in human pace. The woman he had considered a valuable side-kick for such a long time followed him, a pile of books in her hands, carried with unsurprising ease. "So what is the next plan, sir?"

"Ah, it's good to have those cowards on our backs, eh, Galene? I dare say we should take a special measure for the next one."

"And what special measure may that be, sir?"

"More army. The same kind."

"And how do you plan on doing that, sir?"

"You know," The man winked, almost flirtatiously. "The usual."

* * *

**Remember Toshiro? The Japanese vampire the Volturi killed in a dark alley in Breaking Dawn Part 2, movie-verse only. Yeah, that's him! Hiashi looked the exactly the same with him, even though this isn't really important..**

**I think the evil villain in the last bit of the chapter is a bit too obvious, but does anyone know who he is? ;)**

**Kano13 - Since you don't allow PMs, this is the only way I can respond. Thank you! Let's hope I won't mess this story up!**

**By the way, if you have any questions, just ask. I'll answer my best! And any constructive criticism is most definitely welcomed, but a simple statement of what you thought of it would be great too. I also don't mind flames.**

**Love it, hate it, let me know. Review Please!**


	7. Chapter 7 - Doubts, Faith, and the Heart

**It seems that every time I promise to update faster, the exact opposite happens. I'm sorry, guys! I did have the half chapter done by the time I posted the sixth, but I kind of neglected it for a while. School's rough, but it isn't any different than usual, so blame it all on me. Thank you for bearing with me!**

**HUGE thank you for everyone who took time to review: 0Harry. J. Potter0, immaNinjax00, b. mars312010, Wu Jin Fen, OoOXylionOoO, Lord Mortensen, Azucena17, Dev's inferno, Fleeing Reality, Aaron Leach, semexx, Trandele, RockaRosalie, Gigglemachine, Firehedgedog, moondanceluna, Penny is wise, Dancing in the Rayne, S, carolaineclipse, Regin, PinkIsMyColor,TNM-Writer, Star, Elfhunter, SimFlyer, kazanayeahbuddy, AwesomelyMe2015, THE BLACK PRINCE OF DARKNESS, Srutokirti, Lutcy and anonymous guests.**

**I even got a flame. Even though the user didn't sign in, what she/he said indeed made sense. Thanks for being honest with me, and I hope I can improve so the story won't be screwed.**

* * *

**_****EDIT 17/05/13:**

**A few reviewers pointed out that this chapter is too anime-esque. Honestly I didn't realize it until I re-read the chapter after I read the reviews. So after a super long (and awesome!) advice from **_**dreblspooky**_**, I fixed things up a bit by changing some bits that I thought were too anime-esque. And I added some Renesmee's insight. I did intend to make her somewhat immature, but I don't want you guys to hate her, so hear it is. It became super long, I'm sorry. Please bear with me! Thank you, **_**dreblspooky**_**!**

* * *

******A reader pointed out some grammar errors, and I fixed the ones I could fine. However, I'm not a native, so my english is still limited. If you find any errors, don't hesitate to tell me. It really helps!**** :)**

******DISCLAIMER : I own nothing. Except the plot and some original characters.**

**Words : 74****5****7**

* * *

**********Thank you LadyLiterary for beta'ing this mess!**

* * *

_After casual snarky comments on his underlings' incompetence, the leader almost cheerfully left the room, his white cloak moved silently as he walked in human pace. The woman he had considered a valuable side-kick for such a long time followed him, a pile of books in her hands, carried with unsurprising ease. "So what is the next plan, sir?"_

_"Ah, it's good to have those cowards on our backs, eh, Galene? I dare say we should take a special measure for the next one."_

_"And what special measure may that be, sir?"_

_"More army. The same kind."_

_"And how do you plan on doing that, sir?"_

_"You know," The man winked, almost flirtatiously. "The usual."_

* * *

**Chapter 7 – Doubts, Faith and the Heart**

* * *

Few days had passed since their little incident and it had become almost peaceful. It was somehow a relief that the Japanese Ministry was heavily occupied that night, allowing them to leave the mess in peace. However, the next day the papers were printed, and Harry wasn't that surprised to see their little incident becoming a headline, with only a picture of a destroyed shore and the ashes of the vampires, seemingly unimportant. Their names were, fortunately, left undiscovered.

It was now Friday already, and raining heavily outside, causing both of them to feel quite comfortable to stay in the room. Both were happy with the solitude, no one had bothered the other…yet. Renesmee was on the bed, drawing a sketch of something that she refused to let him see.

Harry now found himself sitting comfortably in front of a fireplace, scribbling against a paper with a pen. Harry didn't understand why he never thought to bring this to Hogwarts before; it would've saved him a lot of time. The pen had proven its efficiency by allowing Harry to write a pack of letters in a mere hour—an hour! He had finished the last letter that he was going to send to Arthur, tossing the letter with a small pile of letters for Ron, Hagrid, George and Draco Malfoy—he didn't know why he wrote the latter, really.

And now Harry frowned hard at the innocent little paper, the third paper he had crumbled out of turmoil from his inner dilemma. It was foolish, yes, but he just couldn't make up his mind to write it down. The first one was too mushy, the second was too happy, and the third was too…honest. Harry bit the edge of his pen, trying to find a way to start the letter.

_Dear Ginny,_

_I'm really sorry for everything, that I messed up, that I was a jerk. But I can assure you that it won't happen again—_

_No, _Harry scratched the line again. Perhaps he needed to go to a writing class.

"What are you doing?"

Harry's body jerked violently in an instant, purely on instinct. Renesmee had been blatantly creeping up on him now, since her little secret was out. For some reasons, she found it amusing, how Harry would over-react to every little thing. She was lucky that he wasn't carrying blades around, but still, Harry bent over from her to protect the paper he was holding, moving it away from her view.

"You have no sense of privacy, do you?" Harry deadpanned. He would not give her the pleasure of seeing him losing his calmness.

Renesmee smiled, "Don't be so dramatic, Potter."

Then her hand went to approach the crumbled papers on the floor. Harry's eyes went wide when the realization struck him, but Renesmee's movement was too fast to compete with. In a second, the crumbled papers were already on her hand, and she smiled victoriously.

"_Dear Ginny," _She read in a pompous voice, sounding amazingly like Umbridge, "_I've gone all of my sleepless, fruitless night without you in my arms. I have tried to face the lack of your beautiful, brown eyes staring right into mine. I knew I had hurt your heart, but—"_

A vein popped on Harry's forehead and Renesmee broke to a fit of mad giggles, unable to continue, looking like an immature schoolgirl. "Dude—this is brilliant!"

The witty comeback Harry was preparing died on his tongue, as he spluttered in confusion. "Bri—brilliant?"

Renesmee laughed again, still unable to reply, and Harry felt a little hope sparking in his chest. Perhaps he hadn't completely sucked at all...

"Who the hell—" She gasped for air, "—are you trying to prank? Your teacher?"

Harry laughed too, before realization finally came to knock his head over. "What?"

"This is—this is super cheesy!" Renesmee half-cringed, half-giggled, as she wiggled the paper in front of his eyes. "Who are you trying to prank? Professor McGonagall won't fall for this!"

Harry, completely red-faced, snatched the letters away from her hand. "Give it back!"

"Oh, come on, Harry," She teased, slapping his back with such force that he almost fell. "I can help you with this, ya know!"

"It's not a prank," Harry stated flatly, trying to compose himself. He opened the crumpled paper to reread the lines Renesmee was laughing at. "It's for Ginny. My girlfriend."

Renesmee chuckled for a while, before she faltered, as if she did not expect this. "Your girlfriend?"

"Well, probably not a girlfriend. She kind of broke up with me before I left Britain," Harry smiled sourly. "I just…can't believe I messed up. I mean, she's the best girl I could ever hope for," A small smile crept to his face. "She's vibrant, tough, and a bit pushy. But she's also worldly, strong and independent—why am I telling you this? Hey, Renesmee, you said you could help me?"

While Harry's face was hopeful, Renesmee's face looked confused and blank. Then without warning, her face contorted into one of intense anger as she shouted, "DO IT YOURSELF, YOU PIG!" and then stomping out of the hotel room, leaving Harry alone.

Flabbergasted by her explosion Harry could only gape at the doorway, which was still recovering from the force of her push, and wonder what the hell he did wrong.

* * *

The sun wasn't even up yet, but a pair of green eyes twitched slightly as they opened. Ignoring the soreness in his right hand—most likely because of a bad choice of sleeping position—he slowly sat up in his bed.

It didn't look like Renesmee had come back. Still a bit dazed, he decided to spend the early morning with a cup of green tea, hoping to enjoy the little peace as it lasted in a medium-sized bathtub in their room. He probably should've done this at night, when the magical bubbles were fully in effect.

Needless to say, the sensation was wonderful.

The heat of the water was a little bit too much at first, biting his skin bit by bit, so much that he was sure some of his body may be a little burned. But as his body adapted, he felt much more relaxed, far more than he had felt in a while. He let his body be drowned in the peaceful aura as his head rested on the dull edge of the square bathtub. Harry didn't notice when, but now the room was filled with a nice, strong scent he couldn't recognize, accompanying the steam. Part of him was alarmed that this could be an elaborate trap, but his guts commanded him to lie down. He was screwed if it was indeed a trap; but he really couldn't care less. Slowly his eyelids lowered, drifting to unconsciousness and taking him into a peaceful, gleaming darkness...

The door opened loudly, and Harry jumped in the water. In a split second, he had his wand in hand, pointing to the invader. All he could see was a figure behind the thick steam. He was tempted to point the wand to his eyes but the steam slowly cleared, and the vision became crystal clear.

Renesmee stood there, also in a fighting stance, but her body relaxed once she realized that there was no danger. Instead, a rose started to color her cheeks, moving underneath her skin until her face was bright red. Harry lowered his wand.

"I thought you were someone else," Harry said, relieved. Seeing at her rigid pose, he attempted to melt the ice. "See anything you like?"

If possible, her face had turned redder, much to Harry's amusement. He waited for a flabbergasted denial, a cute witty comeback or a little humph. But all she did was brush past the door, pretending as if nothing had happened.

Harry sighed. It had been a day already, and she was still ignoring him.

"Where have you been?" Harry stood up to wear some clothes—he was suddenly not in the mood to bathe again.

He shouldn't expect to be answered now, but he walked out of the bathroom—fully clothed—to see her on the coach, a newspaper on her hands.

"Look," He sat next to her, but not too close, to keep her personal space. "Why are you ignoring me?"

Renesmee kept on reading a newspaper, as if it was actually interesting.

"Did I say something to offend you? Did it have something to do with the letters? With Ginny? If something's not okay, spill it," Harry carefully chose his words. "You're free to say anything."

Few seconds passed, and Harry's shoulders slumped. He decided to use a different approach. "Are you trying to make me leave you?"

That statement got a reaction out of her, but not to Harry's expectations. She stood up, with tears in her eyes, her eyes blazing with anger as she glared at him. "FINE! LEAVE ME!"

Eyes wide, Harry frantically grabbed Renesmee to prevent her from leaving. "I don't know what's going on but you have it all wrong! It was a joke, okay? Why did you think I went all the way to save you if I was just going to leave you? I don't have the heart to do that."

Her expression softened, but Harry could still see anger in her eyes. He decided to ask, "So what's all this about?"

Renesmee closed her eyes. Harry waited patiently as her chest raised, trying to calm herself. But when she opened her eyes, her expression did not falter. "You're really that much of an idiot, are you?"

"Excuse me?"

She didn't stop there. Her eyes were now challenging, as her face went closer to his, only a part by inches. "You're an idiot. And a pig. And I hate you, you thoughtless jerk!"

That stung. And Renesmee seemed to know it. He stared at her and suddenly his guard came up, the anger in Renesmee's eyes mirrored in his . "Okay, I tried to solve this problem—which I don't even bloody know about—but if I'm such an idiotic pig of a jerk, then maybe this doesn't need to be solved at all!"

His tone wasn't harsh. But it was clear that he was upset as he said the last words to Renesmee, and they stared at each other for a while, emerald to chocolate, both burning with anger. Then the chocolate finally dropped the gaze and walked out of the room, leaving Harry alone.

He didn't know what to feel. Logically, he had every damn right to be mad since she wasn't even telling him what the problem was about. She was supposed to tell him right away, right? They had talked heart-to-heart that night when the incident occurred. Something so small and trivial shouldn't bother her to this extent.

A sound of shriek interrupted his thoughts and Harry looked around for the source of sound, past the window. His eyes widened as he rushed to the glass door to slide it quickly, preventing the furious-faced Shinji from crashing like Pigwidgeon. When he did, a stack of letters was suddenly dropped right on his head, and the owl hooted, circling the room before flying off to the sky again.

Grumbling, Harry opened the letters. The first one was Hermione, a rather long letter considering she could've just called him. While hers was long, the content wasn't so foreign to Harry that he honestly preferred to read the others. George sent him a pack of new prank set, persuading him to use it to some civilians before he departed. He was a bit mortified of this idea, but thought that pranking Renesmee would be nice. Draco—Harry had insisted to call him by his given name now—surprisingly returned his letter, even though it was short and began by questioning Harry's sanity.

He didn't miss the lack of letters from Ron, Ginny and Arthur. The last one made him worried—was Arthur mad at him too? He shook those thoughts away and began replying to some of the letters. It was nice to keep in contact once in a while.

* * *

It was almost humorous.

The situation, that was. Harry walked off the long trail, his knees a little sore, as he struggled through the seemingly never-ending stairs with sweat pouring down his back. Renesmee ignoring him wasn't the only thing that was currently irritating him to no end—it was also the blasting heat of the sun and the unreasonable magical protection that didn't allow magic. Basically, according to the ancient rules, one must go by foot to reach the top of the Kamiki shrine.

He had postponed this day long enough since his little outburst with Renesmee. He had spent said days visiting the markets, meeting new people, just to gain the feel of the town. The civilians were warm and almost too lively, which attracted him more. He didn't forget to hold back, though, as he occasionally caught his photo on Ministry's newspapers, where of course he looked like a complete crap. The photo was probably taken without Harry's consent, seeing as the blue pajamas he was wearing—with a tiny bit of his boxers sticking out—in the picture were being sold to the public.

In all of the business, Harry had also countered some Japanese vampires three times—eight in number—but they were nowhere near the first ones' level. While it was rather easy defeating them, Harry couldn't say it wasn't irritating. The irritation increased fourfold by Renesmee's lack of gratitude, or at least, attention. Harry didn't expect her groveling at his feet, but a simple 'thank you' would be nice.

But that wasn't the humorous thing in the situation; it was Renesmee's presence. Both of them had walked far enough to reach half of the pathway, but had said not a word. He didn't even know why she was coming along, really. A part of him was eager to turn around and tell her off, but the majority of him decided to leave her be. According to the distant sound of her footsteps, she was probably walking six or seven steps behind him. The feeling of her burning gaze on his back wasn't unrecognizable either.

Approximately twenty minutes later, they finally reached the top. There was a huge, silver bell that looked as old as the town itself, a place for offering under it. Harry tried to calm his heavy breathing as he gaped at the sight of Sakura trees—weren't they supposed to only bloom in Spring?—lined elegantly on his right and left and ending just in front of the shrine. He was also a bit annoyed by Renesmee's state of easiness, not even breaking a sweat. She could probably reach the top in two seconds anyway—it was a mystery for him that she insisted on keeping up with his pace.

"Do Not Ring The Bell Without A Reason" was carved to a big stone, and Harry quickly shook that tempting thought. He didn't spare Renesmee's a glance when she stood next to him, her hands held together as she tossed a few coins and immediately prayed. When she left, Harry finally grabbed some coins off his pocket and tossed them inside, the sound of irons clanging echoed at the silent hill.

He closed his eyes, holding his hands together. He breathed calmly, for awhile, letting himself try to believe in something so abstract.

His brain was filled with images of his mother smiling, her hands pressed on the chest of his beaming father, with Sirius and Remus beside them. Then an image of Fred's goofy smile, Collin's star-struck eyes, Lavender's annoying, girly shriek popped up. A crying mother that he didn't know pleading for the life of her daughter. A proud father with his eyes opened wide, lifeless. They were replayed in his brain like a cassette, giving him both happiness and intense grief, twisting his insides.

He wished them well, and hoped wherever they were, it was a nice place.

A small white orb, not intense but shining brightly, popped out of Harry's chest. It lingered for a moment in front of him, as if to say something, before dashing skyward in a blink.

_Are those…His prayers?_

A smile made its way to Harry's lips. It was unbelievable; how such a little thing made his heart clenched as he stared at the now cloudy sky. Such a trivial little thing, like praying shouldn't matter. No one had granted his wish to taste what it was like to actually have a family. No one had freed him from the wrath of Dursley's when he was only a little kid. No one, not one person, prevented the imminent doom when all he wished for was peace. No one had answered his prayers when he pleaded for no more deaths.

Yet now emerald glistened at the sight of the sky, lingering at where the light had disappeared.

For once, he let himself believe.

* * *

_I'm.. kind of new to this kind of thing. I don't really believe in anything. I don't even know if praying matters or not. But now we're standing in front of a shrine, and maybe it's good to give it a shot._

_I wish happiness upon my family. I hope for their sake, they're not too worried. I hope I'm not causing as much trouble as I think I am. Let mom be happy, with dad by her side. Let them be safe from the wrath of Volturi. I don't want to cause that for them—Just please, make it work out. Somehow._

_And I wish that I can be better—more understanding, nicer, more polite, more mature. And somehow stronger. I hate being a burden; I hate being the helpless one and all I could do was to watch him struggling in a fight that's mine._

_I wish things would work out somehow. For my parents, my family, myself. And Harry. I hope he's not truly mad at me—I think I'll go apologize. It's my fault after all._

_Are you even listening? Well, if you are, please note that this is genuine and I hope you will spare some time to at least consider it. I know I don't have the kindest heart, but I'm willing to make up for it._

The entirety of the thought only lasted for three seconds. She hesitated for awhile as she watched Harry from the corner of her eyes, before retreating to jump to the top of a tree, hidden between the pink petals. After she was completely out of his sight, Harry tossed some coins and began to pray.

His face looked genuinely pained as he prayed. His prayers would not be like hers. It wouldn't contain of selfish desire. It would be filled with the wishes for others' sake. The mere thought twisted her insides; how could someone as nice as him be stuck with _her_? All she had been was a _burden_. A complete parasite that fed off him while demanding so much from him. She let him protect her, to engage in a fight that was never his in the first place. She dragged him down to deal with her problems while she stood like a statue. Too afraid, too soft and too weak to do anything.

Tears slowly fell to her cheeks again. It was infuriating.

Perhaps it would be best to go home after all. The chance of Harry hating her now is high after all; why should she make things worse? She could go home at let Harry be on his own. God knew he wouldn't miss her presence. Or at least, she hoped he would, but he wouldn't need her.

But if she went home, everything would go back to usual. To the point where she was always being protected like a bunch of collectors protecting the rarest ruby. No—that would not be the best analogy. Her family loved her, as she loved them. But going home now would only re-form the barrier between her and the world; even worse, strengthen it.

Or perhaps things would turn out well. _If only she was stronger._

But how? She was born half-human. This human quality made her weaker than most vampires. It was pure biology. Because of her heritage, she would be forever cursed with the inability of protecting herself.

_No. _She could not blame her parents for this. They would fight to death for her. And she would do the same to protect them. The question was, she didn't know how.

A sound of wood rotating against the wind recalled her to her surroundings. The bronze-haired girl jumped from tree to tree until she found the source of the sound. Her eyes stared at an old monk under her in curiosity. The human was dressed in ordinary monk's clothes, the yellow one she had seen in a lot of movies. He was doing some movements that she couldn't recognize, as if dancing with the wind. His eyes were closed and his breath was steady, as was his heartbeat. It should've been nothing but a weird, old geezer acting oddly, yet her intuition told her that it was much more than that.

"I know you're there, young un."

Renesmee almost jumped, as she resisted the urge to flee. The old man had somehow detected her presence—she knew that there were no others around. She leapt from branch to branch until she had reached the ground, smiling sheepishly. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't spy on you like that."

"Oh, don't worry," His rough voice answered, still moving and drowned in his peace as if no one was interrupting. "I'm glad there's still such a young seed interested in this art of ours."

Renesmee nodded, feeling a bit more confident. "Is it always so…peaceful?"

"Deserted, you mean?" The man replied, his tone flat and unchanging, but held a feeble aura in it—Renesmee was suddenly reminded why she had always wanted an old grandfather. "It has been like this for years now. I'm the only one here, since my apprentice left long ago. Most wizards nowadays think of this place as a hassle. Let's say, common wizard's arrogance. Why would mighty, magical people want to climb this far just to pray in a small shrine?"

"But isn't this the Ministry's doing?" Renesmee asked, interested. "If that policy makes people go away, why keep it?"

"Oh, no, kin. People began to twist stories," He chuckled. "Kamiki shrine has been protected from magic for centuries. It was neither the policy of the government's, nor the Magical Law. It is none other than the Law of Magic itself."

Now she was really confused. "Isn't Magical Law and Law of Magic kind of the same?"

The man chuckled again, but this time, instead of answering, something smashed into her head with a loud crack. Her head didn't even move an inch, but her eyes were wide, staring at the scattered pieces of wood on the ground, before drifting to the eyes of the monk who looked as surprised as her own.

They were surprised for two different things; hers for his surprising speed, his for her unbelievably hard head.

She focused herself as a pair of dark, beady eyes narrowed into slits. "Indeed. I knew there was something wrong with you."

"Our kind, monks with magical power, could feel people's essence of life when we had reached a certain level of meditation. And I, young one, am one of the oldest around," He continued. "Your orb of life is one of human's, yet your shell is of a blood-drinker."

Renesmee fidgeted, unsure if she should tell him or not. Which one would be wise? Would the old man try to catch her like the others, or would he understand?

She decided not to reply.

The old man brought back a hand, keeping another stance. "You're a dark creature. For you are unknown, you are far more dangerous than the others."

Renesmee resisted the urge to snort. Her? Dangerous? She couldn't even properly defeat a vampire.

For a second, she desperately wished for Harry's presence. Then she mentally scolded herself—why was she being so needy?

"I can assure you, I'm not dangerous," Renesmee said. "I'm different, but I'm not dangerous. My strength isn't like other vampires. I don't even drink human blood."

The old man narrowed his eyes into slits again, but this time in confusion. "Indeed. You're telling the truth. I can feel it."

The man's eyes glinted with morbid curiosity, sending her an uncomfortable, piercing gaze. She didn't look away, as she was mirroring his actions. How could a mere human be this strong? How could someone so seemingly feeble be fast enough to match her speed? Time? Experience? Renesmee wondered as she observed the old monk. It was supposed to be the exact opposite. She should be the one cornering him, being the extraordinary creature the Cullens had always been proud of.

Yet she was weak.

She was never hungry for power; she had never desired the top. She preferred having an adventurous life where she could be as free as the birds. She couldn't care less about power. But that thought only lasted until the incident occured. When she felt the hopelessness, the dread to be at the mercy of such evil, and all she could do was to hope for other's help—it was pathetic. Renesmee grew up treated highly, so importantly as if she was the only diamond. Her whole life had been a gleeful life, but a careless one. Her life was endangered from the moment Volturi found out about her existence. It was never going to change, no matter how fooled she was under the facade of peaceful life.

Suddenly, without thinking, she blurted out. "Can you teach me?"

Slits turned into slightly opened ones. "Teach you what, young un?"

"That art of yours," Renesmee chose her words carefully. "I need to get stronger. I swear I won't work for evil. But I need to be strong—to defend myself and those I love. Or maybe not. Maybe I just need to use this to defend myself. If I'm not good enough to protect, at least I won't be a burden," She closed her eyes as Harry's image popped into her mind. "Not anymore."

He was quiet for awhile. "May I assume that you have the photographic memory as well, young one?"

"Actually, yes, I do."

The rest of the day was spent listening to the old man—who revealed that his name was Kentarou—lecture about the theories of martial arts. This was where her skill came in handy. She memorized every word he spoke and captured his movements in her head, mirroring them while Kentarou corrected her. This went for hours until she earned an approving nod from him, and when the sun was going to set, he bid her farewell.

Since Kentarou told her that she was allowed here anytime she wanted a fortune cookie—he even gave her the password for his underground residence—Renesmee didn't bother to get home quickly. She stayed around, practicing the stance and the motions he had taught. The tricky part was pulling out her inner energy—she highly doubted she had one, but Kentarou did say she had the soul of a human. It took a great deal of concentration, but once, Renesmee felt there was something different with her kick. Kentarou said that once she was able to master this, she'd be much faster than she was now, even more than the other vampires. This had been her motivation, but it was rather hard to manage.

She also learned that she couldn't use _jujutsu _against vampires—mainly, because of the impractical use of turning opponent's force against their own. If she twisted a vampire's hand and threw him against the ground, the ground would be the one to take damage.

Renesmee visited the shrine every day, with Harry, even though they were still ignoring each other. She had promised herself to not let any tears fall, but it was harder when Harry's eyes looked so cold and unforgiving. She knew it was her fault for being annoyingly possessive of someone she didn't possess. Harry had every right to be mad at her, while she had none. She knew, but she couldn't help the boiling in her insides when he did it with nonchalance.

That night, she was alone as always. It was quieter than it usually had been, giving Renesmee the stillness she was aiming for. She felt closer to the peaceful mind, closing her eyes as she tried to reach deep within...

But her eyes snapped open when she sensed a presence. Harry's presence. He was walking towards her, and she could feel her palms sweating. Her heart beat fast like a pounding alarm, but she forced the calm facade. She didn't even budge until Harry stood right in front of her.

"Brilliant idea," He complimented.

Renesmee unsurely nodded.

"It's pretty clever to improve your power this way. If done right, you can damage the others critically," He kept his tone mild. "Brilliant, really."

"Y-you want me to teach you?" Renesmee asked hopefully.

"If you don't mind," Harry smiled.

Harry moved a little closer, and tried to form a martial stance, with his right leg on the front and the other on the back. He drew his hands closer together in a crossing stance before letting his hands stop in front of his torso. It looked as if he was trying to break his pulse apart. Harry's usual stance involved of simple, yet strong standing, focusing his energy and concentration on his hands. That looked better on Harry; more relaxed and flexible. This one looked like a statue.

"Er…could you relax for a bit?" She hesitantly moved his left leg so it moved a few inches in. "And relax your shoulders. Your arms should stay strong, but not this still..."

Renesmee put her hands on Harry's shoulders. They were so close that she could breathe in his scent. Her heartbeat intensified when she realized that they were now at eye level, where his eyes stared into hers with fondness.

"I-I'm sorr—"

"Don't be."

"Can't you just let me finish?" She shook her head, a bit affronted. "I'm sorry. I was immature and stupid. I had no right to be mad, okay? I'm sorry. I even snapped at you like that…"

"Why, though?" Harry asked curiously.

A deep pink hue colored her face as her hands tugged at his shirt. "I…I can't tell you."

He stared at her for awhile. "It's okay. You don't have to tell me."

Her face fell. She sort of hoped him to demand the truth. "You don't want to know?"

"You don't have to if you don't want to," Harry said softly. "Hey, at least we're cool again, aren't we? So how do you relax, but stay powerful at the same time?"

Then she knew that her chance was blown up. Her eyes darkened for a second, before she snorted. This was enough, she supposed.

"Well, you're forcing your hand and that way, you'll just restrain a few muscles—"

Her voice stopped when she sensed vampires around them, her ears perking up. Harry noticed this and demanded, "What is it?"

Renesmee grabbed him and put him on her back, despite his confused protest. _This isn't good._

"Vampires."

She could feel Harry stiffening on her back. "How many?"

"Two, if not more."

Harry sounded relieved, much to Renesmee's increasing nervousness. "Well, you'll take them down."

Renesmee pumped her feet to go faster, only a hundred meters away from the gate. Once they were out, only then could the battle would turn out less than hopeless. Harry cursed, and Renesmee knew he had spotted one of them. She took one full leap to jump above the gate, but a hook made impact with Renesmee's stomach, her body immediately backed away as she landed in front of the bell.

Two vampires appeared, seemingly some of Fuzename's pawns. Renesmee swallowed her nervousness and gave them an awkward, flying kick to both of their faces. It didn't have the desired effect, but at least the vampires backed away for a few meters. Growling in anger, the vampires charged again, this time from opposite directions.

She jumped as high as she could to the sky, and knew that the Vampires mirrored her.

_Inner peace..._

Her legs split to shoot a devastating kick for both of the vampires, each of them bounced back to the ground like a shooting star. Harry gave a whistle.

"Nice," He smirked.

Renesmee wiped her non-existent sweat. "Oh, shut up you."

Renesmee dodged the blow to her windpipe as her body rolled to kick the male Vampire in his balls. The man screamed. Harry grimaced, but Renesmee felt no guilt for that one. However, the other one suddenly appeared behind her back and before she could move, she was sent flying, her back striking the enormous bell.

The bell rang loudly, followed by a sound of shriek. Suddenly she couldn't feel Harry's weight, and turned around to see Harry running towards something. A vampire rushed for Harry, but Renesmee jumped off the recovering vampire to kick the rushing one like an axe.

The Vampire's head was cracked almost half-way. She hesitated for a split second, but then her body moved to snap the head in half. However, her leg was caught by the other and she let out an embarrassing shriek. Her opponent then tried to crush her with a fist, but she rolled fast enough to evade it. The attack was blind, even though it was powerful. The speed was also overwhelming, but with a simple dodge and jump, Renesmee stepped on the vampire's head to capture it with her thighs. She rotated her waist and a loud crack followed, as she fell back on the ground with a head.

Harry tossed her a match, and she lit the fire. She stared at the purple smoke quietly, watching the stones turning into undesirable ashes. She had killed five vampires so far, and the guilt of killing them never really decreased. It wasn't unknown that the opponents she was fighting were evil and intolerant, and would most likely kill her if she didn't end their life, but she found herself oddly numb at the sight of lifeless body that died in her hands.

A small, inhuman cry snapped her back to her surroundings. It was coming from Harry who sat still in front of the bell. Carefully, Renesmee approached him. It appeared that it wasn't Harry at all. In fact, the noise came from the snowy white baby bird that was curling in his arms.

It was beautiful. "What is it?"

Harry looked shaken—for what, she didn't know. "Japanese Phoenix."

She didn't know what to say, seeing Harry in this state. She desperately wanted to help, but she didn't understand. So, she commented, "It seems oddly attached to you."

That seemed to be the wrong statement. Harry's face looked pained, but it was gone in a flash. He now had a solemn smile on his face. She continued, "It seems as if…it wants to follow you."

Harry shook his head immediately. He stood, and placed the little bird under the bell. No one said anything for a while until Harry broke the silence. "There's a monk in this shrine, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Renesmee answered. "A kind one too."

"Then she should be okay," Harry said. "Right, Koori?"

"It has a name?"

"I don't know," Harry shrugged. "I can't really call her bird, can I? It should be fitting, since her element seemed to be ice. I have only encountered a fire-type back home," His finger tucked on the phoenix gently. "Farewell, Koori."

"So," Harry said after the quick moment of serenity. "How was your fighting experience?"

"It was surprisingly easy," She croaked out. Harry was calm as ever. She supposed it was a good example—to never be distracted like this in a battle—but she couldn't bring herself to believe that.

"Seeing their moves, it's a very high chance that they're newborns," Harry sounded bored.

"You're so calm," Renesmee tried to sound casual. Instead, her voice sounded hurt.

Harry's gaze now focused solely on her, and softened somehow sadly. "I'm sorry…I just kind of forget. Are you okay?"

"Forget about what?" Renesmee pressed. Harry didn't miss the lack of answer to his latter question.

"That you're not my underling," Harry pinched the bridge of his nose—a habit she had seen for a while. Seeing the confused look on her face, he elaborated. "You're not some junior Auror I can command. You still have the guilt, the burden when you take a life—even a life that threatens to take your own. You're still innocent. Just…a normal girl. A pretty soft-hearted one at that."

Renesmee suddenly found her feet incredibly interesting. "I…I'm not that innocent. I'm not that kind. I'm egoistical, hot-headed—" She closed her eyes, remembering home for a while. "I'm spoiled and I know nothing—"

A hand ruffled her hair, and her chocolate eyes found his again, giving her a strong sense of deja vu. "Innocence is not necessarily a bad thing," Harry whispered. "If possible, keep yours."

Maybe one would find it odd how Renesmee was captivated by his penetrating emerald eyes. It wasn't just the pure beauty—it was also the warmth and confidence radiating from it. And in this moment, they were filled with curiosity and confusion—as if challenging her to confront her fears.

"I—"

"Oh, look, that's Shinji!"

She was close. _She was so close! _The cursed owl flew sharply past the Sakura, causing pink petals to fill the air. As the cursed owl set its claws on Harry's shoulder, the package fell to Harry's hands. The owl chirped almost lovingly at Harry, but gave Renesmee a cold glare. Renesmee fumed, but Harry's laughter stopped her.

"You're one smart owl, aren't you boy?"

The owl chirped proudly, looking really pleased. Renesmee tucked its butt with a finger. It roared.

"Hey!" Harry sounded offended, as if Renesmee tucked _his _butt. "You're hurting him."

Renesmee grumbled, though she wasn't really annoyed. In fact, she felt bubblier than she usually was—she _almost _found that cursed bird cute. She intended to joke about it, but Harry's head turned upwards. Renesmee mirrored his actions to find a bright pink kanji glowing above the shrine.

"Shōchō?"

"The ministry," Harry hastily told her. "On most occasions, it's the Aurors."

"Oh, good," She relaxed.

"No, it's not!" Harry hissed. "I don't want to get interrogated, or worse, made into another headline!"

"What happened?" Kentarou's voice shouted from a far. "I was asleep for a while and—Dear Kami!"

"You. Were. _Asleep_?" She shouted back in disbelief. Kentarou's mouth twitched downwards.

"Ah, the Aurors. I assume things might have been bad."

Harry seemed ready to flee. Renesmee sensed that this was the time to part with Kentarou. She opened her arms to hug him—but drew her hands back and bowed.

"Thank you!"

Kentarou appeared surprised, but bowed back nonetheless. "May Kami bless you with their power."

Harry hastily bowed—somehow managed to stay polite—and dragged Renesmee. This time, Harry didn't groan when Renesmee took him on her back.

"This is infuriatingly embarrassing."

"Oh, you'll get your chance to show off, rude boy," Renesmee smirked while Harry's right eye twitched in response.

But her smirk faltered at the sight of fire circling the shrine, accompanied by the distant sound of Aurors discussing. "Is there a chance we could hide?"

"Unlikely," Harry said.

"Or we could just explain."

"Even more unlikely," Harry jumped off her back. In his hands, the package was torn enough to see shining blue metal. "I think I have something pretty cool."

The package he was holding opened with a swift move, revealing a shining huge motorcycle that previously managed to be wrapped in the little box. Before she could even contemplate the situation, Harry brought her to the side-car and rode the motorcycle.

"It's from Ron's father," Harry stuffed her a letter. His fingers moved quickly to push the buttons in complicated order. His right leg stomped on the ratcheting lever and the motorcycle roared back to life. Harry grinned.

Renesmee, however, was still not convinced. "And your plan is..?"

Her eyes dramatically widened as the surrounding shifted in a blur. Suddenly, they were shooting towards the night sky, with speed that almost made her breathless. She turned around to the shrine to see Kentarou waving at her, a smile tugging on his lips. She felt bad for leaving the Auror matter to old monk like himself, but perhaps the monk took pleasure in it, as the monk looked giddy—there was almost no more visitors, after all.

"Harry! The Aurors!" She bellowed.

"I know," Harry answered, still grinning—his confidence was worrying. The motorcycle jerked, and for a second, Renesmee believed that they were going to fall.

But then the motorcycle dashed through the sky. The machine started to become invisible, and then her hands, moving to her body. She looked at Harry in alarm, but he merely winked. Once they were completely dissolved with air, Renesmee could see both of them clearly again. However, no outsiders could see them at this point.

She decided to ask questions later. Instead, she gaped at the view from the sky with a content sigh, her head feeling light. The colors, the wind, the euphoria—everything was dazzling her and she sat there, wide-eyed, waving at the town that couldn't see her, her stomach merely held back with a seatbelt. Aurors vainly searched for them, spells that resembled fireworks going haywire in the sky. The machine dashed in zig-zag to avoid curses, like a twisted version of a roller-coaster, causing Renesmee to laugh. Harry's hand shot up and a burst of red light exploded in the sky, revealing a smiling girl that closely resembled a singing Renesmee.

Not knowing what to say, her eyes found his to express her happiness. But she was lost—a fact that she both hated and loved. Harry didn't stop grinning, and she found that his grin was contagious enough to force her to grin back.

Even if the Aurors heard her excited screams, no one could locate where they were. After a few more colors on the sky, they successfully departed, leaving the Aurors behind.

"This used to belong to my godfather, you see," Harry told her. "It was broken, but Arthur repaired it. Good as new."

Renesmee returned the smile. Harry told her that they were leaving Japan, and this was going to be the last—with him, at least—visit to the country. The night blowing against her skin gave her chills, increasing fourfold with Harry's joyful laughter that combined with her own. To her joy, Harry tossed her a magical camera which he bought on the way to the shrine.

"It's a shame that we didn't get to take the fireworks," Harry said loudly, seemingly forgotten that she could hear him just fine. "But take some of the town while you can, will you?"

Ignoring him, she clicked the shutter to take a picture of Harry with his complete mess of hair, a petal stuck in the middle of it, with a lightning scar decorating his forehead. He wasn't smiling, but the corner of his mouth twitched up as he spoke to her earlier. She ignored Harry's protest as she giggled at the picture that was immediately printed. Unlike a muggle camera, the printing was smooth and detailed, with decent coloring and the moving figures.

Harry looked a bit grumpy because of the forcibly taken photo, but he seemed to take amusement of it as well. Renesmee let her voice ring in the open air. She felt oddly gleeful that night. Perhaps because of the fact that they were flying—the idea of it still amazed her—or that they just ended her fight. Regardless, she felt content, even with the presence of spoiled Shinji, who vainly tried to get Harry's attention to its own.

A completely insane idea appeared in her mind. A simple wish that turned to be desire to stay. Is it possible? Is it too far-fetched to hope to extend this adventure? To hope for Harry's presence by her side? To wish to be completely free from her family, and explore the world to her heart's contents?

She did not ever want to go home anymore. At least, not now.

* * *

**Just to clear things up; Renesmee is a teenager, so I think it's perfectly normal to feel this way about Harry this soon.**

**I have always thought flying motorcycle is way more fun than brooms! Who could last that long with that uncomfortable thin stick, anyway? :/**

**Koori : Ice in japanese. (pronounced : Ko-oh-ri) I had an inner debate with ice, frost, blizzard going on. Decided with Ice, since the options are Koori, Shimo and ****Burizādo****.**

**Shōchō****: Ministry**

**Kami : God**

**This one is longer than usual, so have the heart to review, okay? ;)**

**Love it, hate it, couldn't care less, let me know!**


	8. Chapter 8 - Pocctalin

**I owe you guys an apology for the delay. Final exam ended in mid-june, and after that I was struck with a huge writer block. This chapter is conflicting—because I keep changing things. I've been absent for almost two months and I'd like this one to be at least worth the wait. I hope you think so, but oh well, read it guys!**

**Special thank you for Lutcy. If it's not for him, this chapter would've been the fluffiest, but also the most cliche and boring piece of work I've ever written.**

**HUGE THANK YOU for semexx, Aquaone, gizago, kazanayeahbuddy, TNM-Writer, Aaron Leach, Srutokirti, FleeingReality, mattblue, Firehedgehog, amata0221, OoOXylionOoO, dreblspooky, Goldenfightergirl, Lord Mortensen, TheNorwegianAuthor, noble117, lavanyalabelle, DarkReader15, TheBeauty, Victoria131, Azucena17, UchihaRai, 0Harry. J. Potter0, PinkIsMyColor, Penny is wise, Weird'sMyName, lawliness, DancingintheRayne and a guest!**

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**DISCLAIMER : I own nothing. Except the plot and some original characters.**

**Words : 5039**

**This is the un-beta'ed version. I'll re-upload it as soon as it's ready!**

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_A completely insane idea appeared in her mind. A simple wish that turned to be desire to stay. Is it possible? Is it too far-fetched to hope to extend this adventure? To hope for Harry's presence by her side? To wish to be completely free from her family, and explore the world to her heart's contents?_

_She did not ever want to go home anymore. At least, not now._

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**Chapter 8 - Pocctalin**

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Even with the heat of the sun blazing, Harry was very tempted to drift off into sleep. The wind was sweeping in a nice pace and the blankets Renesmee arranged in the side car was surprisingly very comfortable. He had magically enlarged the side car that it now could fit a person laying without his feet getting stuck. Their surrounding was nothing but a vast display of blue sky and puffy clouds below them, but it was still really fanciable to see. Harry had never reached this high before—and he did feel excited the first few hours—but now all he wanted was a good sleep and a cup of pumpkin juice.

One thing he was grateful for was Renesmee's ability to pick up things in incredibly short time. In result, Renesmee was decided as the pilot with no arguments, as she was incredibly pumped to reach their destination.

"I'm so excited!" Renesmee's voice prevented him to sleep.

"I know. That's the seventh time you mentioned it," Harry replied idly. She could be a bother sometimes.

"Cut me some slack," She said cheerfully. "I mean, I am now flying. And we're heading for the place of my choice."

"Fascinating," Harry tried his best to sound interested. "Now pardon me, but I'm going to take a nap."

"Oh, come on," She huffed. "All you do is sleeping."

"Unfortunately, I'm a mortal," He replied in a bored tone. "We mortals need some sleep. You hardly let me rest last night."

She frowned in disgust. "And you mortals supposedly need shower! How could you tell me not to stop?"

"A quick _scourgify _would do."

"Yeah, spells do everything," She said sarcastically. "Wizards are rather lazy, if you ask me.."

"_Excuse me?"_

"Weren't you trying to sleep?" She asked innocently.

A little annoyed, Harry decided this was the time to ignore her. With blankets covering his face, Harry drifted into unconsciousness.

Harry didn't dream. Or at least, he didn't remember. He was used to have nightmares—come to think of it, since when did those nightmares disappear?

The incoherent words slowly made sense as he gained his vision. At first, all he could see was Renesmee's long bronze hair tossed around by the wind. Regaining his senses, he immediately sat to see the islands that his father had wanted to see.

"—finally there! Hawaii, Harry!"

"I could hear you perfectly fine," He muttered as he ruffled his hair, even though her excitement was indeed infectious.

Elegant high buildings stood proudly, as if to prove the city's reputation, with little space to the wide open sea. It was different with the one he spotted near the hospital. These ones were more glorious, inviting, established to attract. As Harry was approving the scene, Renesmee pulled the handle and the motorcycle descended until the wheels were almost brushing the water. Harry let his left hand soak into the sea, pleasantly surprised by the cold, refreshing sensation. A chuckle slipped through his lips.

"So, where to go?" Renesmee beamed. "The muggle coast? Or is there a magical community as well?"

Harry checked the list again. The only one with a check mark next to it was the Japan's quest. His eyes found the thirty fourth wish, one of the few rather messy writings among the nice straight ones.

_Try the World's Best Whiskey in Halu'iowa, Hawaii._

Renesmee was suddenly next to his head. "Halu'iowa?"

He jerked a little at the sudden presence of her voice next to his ears. Ignoring her snickers, he took a red book out of his backpack, flipping it impatiently until a picture of the city caught his eyes.

The entrance of the city was located in the bathroom of Honolulu International Airport. At this, Harry simply could not understand wizarding society's morbid fascination with public bathroom. Before he could read more, Renesmee demanded a switch, letting her play with the water that was as cold as her temperature. There was nothing to do but splashing—he glared at her before she could attempt it on him—but she looked as if she was actually having fun.

The ride to the airport was short, since they first landed at the left side of Wakiki beach. Once they entered, the motorcycle was safely shrunk and both walked to find the nearest bathroom. The security sadly did not stand a chance against several charms.

When Renesmee kept on following him, he whispered to her ear, "What are you doing? The female one's over there."

She stopped, bewildered. "What? What do I do?"

"Oh, right. Just stand _in _the loo—" Renesmee's jaw dropped, "—and press the buttons on the seat in this order: right, right, left."

He was ready to part, as the crowd began to gather, forming a line in the bathroom. However, before he could move, Renesmee yanked his wrist.

"Wha—you're serious?"

He shrugged. "Unfortunately, yes."

Her face turned exasperated. "Can't we at least go in together?"

"The loo's barely enough for one person," Harry told her, not harshly, but not patiently either. He wasn't exactly keen on having to get stuck in the long queue. "Nothing's going to happen. Let's be off already."

Renesmee smacked his shoulder before parting. The bathroom wasn't too packed, and the travel by loo went smoother than he expected. With a little familiar, uncomfortable sensation, Harry found himself in a wide alley. The wall was made of stones, appearing plain with nothing to decorate it except the lines of lights that were hung from wall to wall in crossing pattern. From every side of the wall, various people emerged, walking calmly as if they had just walked through a door.

Harry waited for a sign of Renesmee in the middle of the way. When full ten minutes had passed, Harry started to really wonder where she had gotten herself into. The radar on his wristwatch that was supposed to pinpoint her location wasn't moving. Did it have something to do with the magical boundaries?

He called a woman that had just appeared from the wall of his right side. "Excuse me. Is every loo in the airport connected to this alley?"

She looked stunned, but nodded. "Yes."

"Did you a see a pale bronze-haired girl with a blue shirt?"

"Umm, sorry, no."

He insisted further, "Has there ever been any accidents?"

"Not that I knew—Oh! Is this girl a witch?"

"No," Harry said, getting a bit uneasy at her stare. "A vampire."

"The toilet works with magic. If she's not magical, it probably won't work. Hey, your face look kinda familiar—"

But Harry didn't bother to hear the rest. He muttered a small 'thank you' as he stormed past her, re-entering the wall. He almost collided with a round man in the loo, who looked quite enraged that he actually went after him for awhile. The distance between the men's bathroom and the woman's was uncommonly far. By the time he got there, Harry rushed in, ignoring multiple shrieks of the women.

"Sorry," Before any of them could scream more, he briskly continued. "Did any of you see a pale bronze-haired girl? About sixteen, blue shirt, black jeans?"

"The pretty one?" One of them, looking a bit miffed, answered. "She came in and out for several minutes before going off somewhere."

Another one butted in. "She looked like she was crying, though."

"Thanks," He said weakly.

Then the radar beeped once, showing a blue light that had moved from her previous spot. He turned into a small hallway before disapparating to the second floor.

The sea of people didn't make it easier. Harry advanced, absent-mindedly mumbling 'sorry' for every person he bumped. His eyes were focused on his wristwatch, where the light wasn't moving anymore.

_There she was. _All he could see was her back, but he would recognize that bronze hair a mile away. She was sitting by herself in a bench. Harry tried to compose himself as he walked closer, thinking of apology to give. The guilt twisting in his stomach had overturned the worry he had earlier. It was his fault for not thinking thoroughly, putting her in a possible danger. _What on earth would he do if she actually disappeared?_

He coughed, "Hey."

The bronze-haired girl turned around, a spill of mustard on her lips. "Oh, there you are, Harry. Been looking for you!"

Harry stared at the hotdog on the girl's hand, then at her face that seemed anything but upset. He let out a heavy breath, a smile on his lips. Shaking his head in disbelief, he moved forward, ruffled her hair, and snatched the hotdog to take a bite.

"The toilet didn't work!" She scowled, though it seemed like purely irritation. Harry expected much more, much more, so he looked away, grinning.

"Yeah," Harry fought the urge to snicker. "I'm sorry. Should've paid more attention to it."

When she didn't say anything, Harry sneaked a glance at her. Her eyes were unfocused, her face stoic. Harry forced the hotdog into her mouth.

"Hmphh—!"

"What's in your mind?" He asked before she could protest.

She glared, but Harry held his gaze. A set of emotions flashed her face; sadness and guilt being the most dominant ones. Harry waited, until she finally look resigned.

"I was just thinking of my family."

"You want to go back?" Harry offered softly. It was easy to forget that she was only a teenager. It was infuriatingly easier to forget that unlike him, she had parents to always worry about.

"No—Yes. I don't know!" She snapped. Then her face fell. "Sorry."

"We can always go back," He suggested. "I don't mind taking you back."

"No. No," Her voice sounded steadier. Suddenly, she stood, her sadness replaced by elated mask. "Come on, Harry, the beach is waiting!"

"Renesmee.."

"Stop," Her eyes captured his, as well as her hands. "I don't want to go home. At least not now. Can—Can I please stay?"

Harry searched her eyes, looking for any sign of doubts. Yet her chocolate eyes seemed determined, shining, as if daring him to prove her wrong. Harry let out a puff of breath, sounding as if annoyed, but he knew Renesmee caught the twitched corners of his mouth.

"Definitely," harry watched her eyes shining in delight, as she gave him a hug that nearly crushed his bones.

* * *

'Lively' seemed to be the best word to describe this city. The crowd was massive that it was harder to walk—Renesmee had to tug on Harry's jacket to stay close—even so than the one on the arrival alley. The buildings reminded her of the 1900s buildings that Carlisle fondly showed her. They radiated a dull aura, but the shops, along with the crowd and colorful lanterns above their heads were enough to spark the spirit of the town.

Renesmee's eyes lit up the moment they found a famous market near the centre of the town. Beside her, Harry sighed. "Go ahead."

The first store they stormed in was the local joke shop. Renesmee didn't really know about it—surprisingly the same went for Harry, that stuck-up little jerk—but from the various colors, interesting shapes and fascinating advertisement, she took the lot of the shelves and put them in front of the owner's flabbergasted face. _Emmet and Jasper are _so_ owing her._

The rest of the shopping included clothes, much to Harry's irritation. Well, growing up with Alice and Rosalie did have its effects. She planned to buy him some local clothes, but the wizard fled saying he was going to need a new shampoo. After this, Harry dragged her to a nearby All-You-Can-Eat restaurant. Her experience with magical cuisine wasn't exactly astounding. But surprisingly, they were pretty good. One of them tasted like chalk, but the others were excellent.

Her main goal was to play in the beach, but she supposed it was enough of torturing Harry for the day. It _was _his vacation after all. The sun seemed to agree as it slowly began to set. Harry asked a local about the particular drink, and the local laughed.

"You're sure, buddy? The drink's pretty popular, but it's too intense for most people. Most got drunk right away, most fainted. If you're up to the challenge, talk to the central bar's owner. I'm sure he's got some!"

Harry's face was a bit white.

"Don't worry," She smirked. "I'll make sure nothing embarrassing is going to happen."

* * *

The nightlife was crazy.

There was a huge bonfire at the heart of the town. The magical fire was a beautiful shade of blue, reflecting the calming waves that could be felt from the open sea right next to it. Around it, a set of seats were filled with wizards and witches chortling. Beers. Food. The laughter. The same lantern that crossed above their heads in wrecked pattern, magically unaffected by the fire. The music was too loud, ending up hurting her sensitive ears. The reek of alcohol was sickening.

There were no children around, and for the love of god, she hoped they were never present here. A dozen of almost-bare women danced in grace, circling the fire like some creepy rituals. The bystanders around didn't exactly try to be polite either.

"Harry," She said carefully. "I don't think I can make sure nothing embarrassing is going to happen here."

Harry nodded nervously. His hand dragged her to the center of the bar—that looked too huge and extravagant to be missed. Inside, it appeared to be a close replica to normal bars, with the exception of floating bottles and cups. Oh, and multiple colors that struck the room.

Renesmee followed Harry to talk with one of the bartender. The available bartender was busy with a man that was surrounded by women. She rolled her eyes. But then, his eyes weren't on those women. His eyes were on Harry. The young man was wearing a black fedora, with a few of ginger strands underneath.

"Harry?" The man finally spoke in a thick British accent.

"Hmm—GEORGE!"

"Dear Ickle Harrickins!" He cried rather dramatically. "Never thought I'd see you here!"

"You're supposed to be at France, you barmy—"

Renesmee watched as Harry and this George exchanged warm greetings. They seemed to be really good friends. A part of her was fascinated, but another was nervous. Harry had been so accepting beyond belief, but the others?

"So this beautiful lady is Harry's companion!" George grinned, before actually pressed his lips on her hand. "Mysterious, dashing Sir George Weasley at your service."

The worries that started to build up in her chest evaporated as Renesmee giggled. George shooed the women away and let Harry and her sit next to him.

"The Joke shop is booming. So I thought I'd use the money on a nice vacation," George started to what Renesmee would expect of a really long story. "But that's not the real reason, though. I had been rejected!"

Harry patted him in the back. "Sorry for you, mate."

"I know! What's there to reject me, anyway? The beautiful French blondie as the bride of the Weasley king!" He declared.

Renesmee couldn't help to snort.

"Now, now, full of yourself, aren't you? You better not be breaking young girls' hearts, Harry."

"Oh, why do you have to be so.. excited, George?" Harry shook his head, but with a hint of smile. "Found her crying at the corner of the streets. As the nice man I was, I brought her along."

"You didn't!" Renesmee protested. George joined to Harry's snickers. "I still haven't forgiven you for leaving me in the airport, you know."

"Please," Harry rolled his eyes. "You weren't even upset."

Renesmee devilishly threw a comeback at him, and Harry replied to it. He seemed happier than usual, obviously because of George's presence. In the middle of the playful banter, Renesmee found George's eyes repeatedly moving from her to Harry, as if confused of something.

The expression disappeared as fast as it appeared. George was now beaming because of her love declaration for pranks. Both of them ignored Harry's muttering as they talked about well-thought pranks. George even gave her a few of his best products, claiming that he only did this for the 'worthy ones'.

"Ah," Harry said after George finished telling a story of his newest invention. "The drink!"

As Harry called the bartender, George raised an eyebrow. "What drink?"

"My father's bucketlist," Harry gave him a lopsided grin. "To drink the world's best whiskey."

George's eyes rounded. "You're barmy!"

When Harry repeated what he said to the bartender who looked a bit surprised, the bartender came back in a five minutes with a bottle in hand. The bartender declared proudly, "This is Pocctalin."

"That's gonna be super strong, Harry," George warned. "I've been here for two weeks and the whiskey's insane. That's the normal whiskey I'm talking about."

"You're not exactly helping him, you know," Renesmee offered.

"The list said 'try'," Harry looked like he was composing himself. "A glass would do."

George sniffed. "Warned ya, brother."

Renesmee stared at Harry who seemed a bit nervous. A smirk tugged on her lips, as she rested her head against the back of her hand. "Go on, Harry."

Slowly, the glass made its way to Harry's mouth. He hesitated, and for a second she thought he would put it back down. Instead, he drank the glass dry in one go.

Both Renesmee and George didn't avert their eyes from him.

Harry looked unsure at first, then suddenly his face turned happy. "Not so bad. No—it's bloody good, but not that intense."

He poured down another drink.

"Harry.."

But he had already drunk it. His laughter was louder this time, and the reek of alcohol was stronger. He jerked in his seat once, before staring at the now empty glass on the table.

Then, his head banged against the bar, his eyes closed.

* * *

"Harry?" Renesmee asked, not sure whether she should be worried or amused.

Harry woke up seven seconds after he momentarily fainted. This was the first time Renesmee actually saw him drunk, and she couldn't help to feel a bit giddy. George couldn't stop laughing at his face, and even harder when Renesmee took this opportunity to take a few pictures.

"I—" She managed to say between the row of laughs. "I'll get him some water."

She walked to the corner of the room in human pace. Just before she pushed the button to fill the water, she heard Harry's weak voice. "You're mad at me, Forge?"

"Mad? For what?" George shook his head.

"Your ickle sister," Harry hiccuped. "Ginny. You told me once you'd murder me if I screwed up."

"Well, I do hope you two are gonna make up soon," George's voice turned serious, this time taking a bottle with himself. "She's been a wreck for months. I could've killed you for that alone."

"But you didn't."

"But I didn't," George agreed. "She's my sister, Harry. But you're my brother."

"She's just so perfect," Harry spoke almost incoherently. "Fiery, nice, down to earth.."

"The same thing applies to Renesmee, you know."

"What?"

"Do you love Ginny, Harry?" George looked at him square in the eye. "Like, really love her?"

"I'll do anything for her," His voice, even drunk, sounded sure. "Anything to get her back."

Harry didn't seem like he had anything left to say to that. George interjected, "Forget about that for awhile. The girl is interesting, Harry."

"Renesmee," Harry mumbled. "She won't stop shopping."

George laughed. "That's all you have to say?"

"She won't stop bugging me," Harry sounded annoyed. "She does crazy things that she thinks 'fun'. Gets mad with no apparent reason. Ungrateful. Unbelievably cheerful and excited over small, stupid things."

"Why not just leave her then?"

Harry snorted. "Are you insane? Never!"

George's face was blank, in confusion or anger, she didn't know. Harry had reached for another glass, ignoring George's warning. Renesmee decided it was the time to show herself, so she turned back to bring Harry his water. The glass on his hands was now already empty.

"Geez, Harry. Don't you remember what happened last time you were too drunk?" Renesmee chided. "I'll have to drag you back myself, you know."

"Ah, this one's maybe drunk, but he won't let a lady carry him," George laughed heartily, any trace of earlier conversation gone. "Right, Harry?"

Harry was probably too drunk to answer. Renesmee had a deep scowl. "Maybe you could help us back, Mr. Weasley."

"Nah. No way. I just got here a week ago, you know. The ladies are _so _fond of me.." George's eyes twinkled in a quite disturbing way. "I'm sure this ickle git would get to know 'em better, don't you Harry?"

When Harry didn't answer again, Renesmee lifted a strand of dark hair to check his face. "I'll say he's completely wasted.." His body shook a bit. "Harry? You're crying or something?"

"HA! Harry, the crying drunk! Zis is priceless!"

"Quiet, George!" She hissed. "..Harry?"

But Harry didn't respond. His body rocked harder, and this time Renesmee had a sinking feeling in her stomach. Her hands approached him, intending to soothe, but before it could reach him, his eyelids snapped open.

Renesmee couldn't move. His eyes were fixed on her. His _glowing _green eyes.

Everything moved so fast. The next second, the bar was crumbled by Harry's kick, triggering screams to erupt. Before she could even question it, all of the glasses nearby shattered. His body jumped to the ceiling in a swift grace the same time he grabbed the lamp. His right hand jabbed through and pulled the roof down, crashing it down to the earth.

All of it did nothing to hurt her, but the horror of the sight was enough to bring her to her knees. The screams were like toxin for her—pounding in her ears, intensifying the hanging pendulum on her chest. It didn't have the same effect on him. He looked positively joyful, as if it was the most captivating music in the world.

She wanted to tell herself that this was a mere dream—or that she too was drunk. But Harry's eyes were too cruel, too lethal to be anything her dreams would imagine. His face was deathly pale under the moonlight, his mouth forming into a harsh sneer. His movement was inhumanly graceful, as if he was a Vampire.

He raised a hand at the bartender who was too suffocated by fear to move. It almost crushed the poor man's face until Renesmee pulled the bartender's hand to throw him out of the scene. A little back pain wouldn't kill him.

The bonfire party was crashed. Nothing came from Harry himself, but the crowd was too panicked to stay around. It was about time until aurors would come and restrain him. He needed to be stopped; but Renesmee was completely at lost. What are the odds of surviving against Harry in this state?

Then he roared. The sound was foreign, an inhuman sound that sent a chill down her spine. Suddenly he disappeared, only to reappear nearby a plump witch. Renesmee screamed. He titled his head to her direction, but his hand was still moving.

She pushed the woman far out of the way, holding her tight that they made through the force that exploded behind them. There, where they were just standing, appeared a huge hole that looked like a meteor had fallen. Among the smokes, the young man leapt for another thing. This time Renesmee was more proactive—she twisted the joint of his elbow to change his aim. The lumps on her throat decreased a little when his attack was off. She wasn't naive enough to think she would be able to block him; let alone confront him.

He didn't just want to destroy. His rampage had included a few targets, and all of them were humans. He aimed for the nearest human, and when failed, searched for another. He bared his teeth to her before he leapt for another one.

It was times like this she hated herself for being such a crybaby. "HARRY! STOP—PLEASE!"

But Harry ignored her—or maybe plainly unable to hear her, she didn't know. Nothing made sense anymore. Seconds ago they were all laughing heartily. Now he became something she couldn't comprehend; all she knew that it was not Harry. It was someone—something—entirely different with the warm, kind Harry who would die to protect a stranger.

Renesmee pumped her feet to scurry to the child he was walking to. "Stop! Harry—"

His right kick landed on the bench. The boy was safely in her hands, wailing helplessly. Her stomach turned into a horrible knot; she couldn't keep saving and defending. Something had to be done as offense, yet she could barely save the child in time. The only option was to run, to put the child somewhere safe.

"TORRIC!" She heard a woman's voice.

It was a witch, running clumsily for the kid that was holding onto her like a lifeline. Renesmee dashed to give him back. There was no use hiding anything.

"Th—thank you," She gasped.

"Don't mention it," Renesmee said grimly. "Really. Please don't."

Then she ran back, despite her logical part of the brain screamed her not to. The alley and the square were mostly empty of humans—with the exception of some who were unconscious. Harry was still there, looking even angrier than before. His head kept turning around wildly. She knew what he was searching for.

Someone alive.

She took the chance of his exposed back to send a devastating blow. This was not Harry. Whatever it was, Harry could deal with his broken bones later. All she could do now was to bring _Harry _out.

He growled. Renesmee got the impression that he was angry for being attacked, yet satisfied of finally finding a moving person to destroy. He drew a fist, and she dashed to his right side to slap his arm. His right arm collided with the ground. She couldn't let him hit her with one of her attack.

It was hopeless. Renesmee ducked when he attacked. She leapt above him to impact her hand with his prepared leg. It went for five minutes, and in spite of Renesmee's speculation of his tenacity, his blow was getting stronger and stronger each time. She sucked a shaky breath when he stopped for awhile. It was then when she realized of the presence of tears running down her cheeks.

Something suddenly made impact with her stomach. The next second she was on the air, gasping. Her insides felt as if they were on fire. Everything seemed so surreal; the pain. Harry's eyes. Her sudden difficulty to breathe. Her eyes memorized that it was not a physical blow, but a blue beam that assaulted her. She didn't even think it was possible to taste this much iron from her own body.

With one blow, she wasn't able to move._ Pathetic_. Harry was calmly walking towards her, as pretentious as the Grim Reaper itself.

Both of Harry's arms lit in blue light. They were now inches apart, both his hands drew to charge. His eyes glinted in some sort of sick amusement. His movements were infuriatingly slow, his sneer turning into a smile. She wanted to fight back, to at least act tough in the edge of her life—if it was true. But her body wouldn't allow it, as well as her heart that felt as if it bled.

She bit back a sob. She didn't want to die now—not like this, not before apologizing to everyone, and certainly not in _his_ hands.

A spark—a spell—came rushing, as if for her rescue. Harry deflected it easily like a fly, but it did the job to distract Harry from her. It gave her a moment to gasp a deep breath—her overflowing tears tasted salty for doing so. Harry's attention was now on the left side of the destroyed bar, at the figure of a panting ginger.

"George—NO!" She gasped, mostly in pain from her ribs while she breathed.

She could see George was scared, but he held his wand high. He sent a row of spells, all non-verbal, colorful and dangerous, as she inspected the effect they had at the buildings where Harry deflected them to. Renesmee forced herself to stand. It was in vain, as her body collapsed back to the ground.

George began to levitate several bottles. He sent them to smash Harry's head repeatedly, as well sending two bottles to her direction. A Strength and adrenaline potions. That might just be what she needed. Her hand forced them in while the time was still on her side, ignoring the dreadful taste and sickening smell. Meanwhile, Harry finally snapped, brushing the potions off like an angered animal and jumped for George.

"NO!" Renesmee ran, the potion finally taking effect. "NOT HIM!"

_Not George. He won't be able to handle it. His feeble human flesh. NO! HARRY—_

Renesmee reached his hand the moment she had a deafening crack, followed by a hoarse scream. She had pulled Harry away to the air, but her face was white. George's body fell to the ground, huge amount of blood soaking through his shirt.

_Oh God. Oh God._

"George.."

Harry charged again. Renesmee, clinging her hope on the small beats of George's heart, did the same. Before they made contact, she side-stepped, pulling his collar and threw him to the open ocean.

_Ocean. Of Course._

A hopeful smile sneaked its way to her face. She followed him, down to the cold water. Harry was preparing to rise, but she grabbed his neck, pulling him deeper. The water was so cold that he visibly shivered, but Renesmee didn't stop. He struggled, but it was weaker. Her hands touched his face. One of her tear escaped and formed a small bubble.

Something in his face shifted. His muscles relaxed. His eyes slowly dimmed, and without hesitation, she pulled her hands back and embraced him.

"Please," Her lips mouthed. "Come back."

And he did.

* * *

**See? I'm not that bad! I'm not giving you any cliffhanger this time.**

**READ THIS : Now I'm starting to think that I annoy people with the reviewers listing. What do you think? Do you like your name posted here before the story or would you rather just get down to business? I won't continue the listing if you guys'd like me to do so. Do tell me!**

**Ahh, the action. I suck at it but I can't help but to add it everytime. Also, if you think the Harry-Nessie thing is too mushy, again, tell me!**

**Love it, hate it, couldn't care less, let me know!**


	9. Chapter 9 - Rejuvenation

**HUGE THANK YOU for Aaron Leach, mattblue, Le Diablo Blanc2, FleeingReality, Luxraylover, Aquaone, Penny is wise, babed1026, Blinkdawg15, Srutokirti, 0Harry. J. Potter0, Aradia de Lune, carolaineclipse, DancingintheRayne, HP-TMI-TS, semexx, MisterTurtle20, Victoria131, shugokage, Goldenfightergirl, E J ect, PinkIsMyColor and guests.**

* * *

**DISCLAIMER : I own nothing. Except the plot and some original characters.**

**Words : 6257**

**This is the un-beta'ed version. I'll re-upload it as soon as it's ready!**

* * *

_A hopeful smile sneaked its way to her face. She followed him, down to the cold water. Harry was preparing to rise, but she grabbed his neck, pulling him deeper. The water was so cold that he visibly shivered, but Renesmee didn't stop. He struggled, but it was weaker. Her hands touched his face. One of her tear escaped and formed a small bubble._

_Something in his face shifted. His muscles relaxed. His eyes slowly dimmed, and without hesitation, she pulled her hands back and embraced him._

_"Please," Her lips mouthed. "Come back."_

_And he did._

* * *

**Chapter 9 –**** Rejuvenation**

* * *

When he opened his eyes, the intensity of the light made him close it again. Slowly, he forced himself to sit. His head was pounding, affecting his eyesight horribly. The heft on his head was almost overwhelming, as if it was going to split up into two. Yet his throat was worse. It was very dry to the point that it hurt, and Harry couldn't think of anything but to ease it.

"Here," The too familiar voice said. A glass of water was shoved to his face, and he welcomed it gladly. She came back with another glass and a kettle, as well with a plate of food with McDonalds label.

Almost inaudibly, he forced his voice out, "Thanks."

"I've never experienced hangover before," Her tone was soft. "So all I could bring is water and greasy food. How are you feeling, Harry?"

"Bad headache," Harry shook his head. "I want a firewhiskey."

"Well, I want the world, brother," Renesmee rolled her eyes. "But life isn't fair. Drink again."

Harry managed a weak smile. Her bossy tone felt almost relieving—a reminder of reality.

"Drink more water. I bought two Big Macs—don't worry, it tastes good."

"Of course," He grimaced. "How long was I out?"

"Fourteen hours."

"Wow. And I still feel like crap," Harry sighed. "That Pocctalin's.. strong."

"You have no idea," She shook her head, filling another glass.

Harry bit down his burger. It tasted really good, but he couldn't help wondering about just how healthy it was. Renesmee took a bite too, and they ate in silence. It was almost odd. Perhaps Renesmee was giving him a space, but he could see there was something off with her eyes.

It took Harry a moment to finish his burger and realize this was a muggle hotel room. "Where are we?"

"Santa Monica hotel, in California," She didn't look pleased. "The closest one I could find. It's much closer than I'd prefer."

Now he was confused. "California? Why?"

"Long story," She said, almost evasive. "Just get better and I'll tell you about it."

"Fine," He grudgingly accepted. He rubbed his temples. The pain was throbbing. "Just toss me a hangover cure from my backpack."

She froze, as if this was a bad news. Her head turned inhumanly fast; a sign when she was upset. "You have one?"

"Of course," He said rather impatiently. "Getting _this _drunk is fortunately not a habit so I usually don't need it. It's deep purple, there's a label on it."

Harry eyed Renesmee as she rummaged his backpack. It took her longer than usual—approximately forty five seconds. She tossed the vial a little too high, almost slipping through Harry's hand to hit the window. "Thanks," Harry muttered nonetheless.

"So, your hangover's just gonna disappear like that?" She asked in disbelief. "Poof? That's convenient."

"Not even magic could do that," Harry opened the vial in haste. "I'll take a good sleep and it should disappear in an hour or two. At least I hope so."

The taste was repugnant, obviously, but it was nothing compared to the good old days with Madam Pomfrey. Soon, he felt his head heavy. Renesmee arranged his pillows a little bit—Harry found it annoying at first, but then it proved to be really comfortable—before she went off somewhere. A part of his mind was awfully curious, but the other countless parts were begging for a little rest. Harry promised himself to ask her before falling into a deep slumber.

* * *

When he woke up, Renesmee was still nowhere to be found.

His hangover had miraculously healed. It was almost as if he wasn't drunk in the first place. Yet, somehow, the anxiety in his chest still refused to disappear. He had heard, mostly from George, that anxiety was normal to feel during hangover. It was a little off, but Harry decided to shrug it off as technicalities with the potion.

It was evening again. After Harry cleaned himself—in a really excellent bath, he had to point out—he slided the huge window open. The night breeze welcomed him, gently embracing his face that was still warm from the water. There was no balcony, but Harry sat on the window's edge anyway. There was something about the city lights that made him sit there, without particularly thinking.

A few minutes had passed, and Harry was about to close the window when he heard a rather familiar hoot. With the eyes of a Seeker, Harry could easily spot something flying fiercely towards him. Then it became clearer as an ugly, brown owl cried out in anger.

"Shinji!" Harry felt quite bad for forgetting him. "Yeah, boy. I'm sorry. I know."

The owl narrowed his fierce yellow eyes at him. He looked too familiar for Harry. Not the owl's appearance, but it was the owl's acrimonious attitude. The moment he entered the shop, he could see the similarity of the malignant, nasty bird with a certain rabid snowy owl.

"A letter from 'Mione? Of course. Draco, Arthur," Harry said. "No news? Can't you get one?"

Shinji seemed offended. Harry immediately corrected, "I mean, the usual post? It's night, so I'd rather have you stay here. Please fetch a newspaper for me tomorrow, okay?"

The owl looked as if he wanted to whine. Harry gave him a smile that he was sure the owl would understand. He put Shinji into the cage, where he could sleep soundly. The ugly owl made an uncharacteristically soft purr, and Harry had to suppress his chuckle. He remembered Renesmee's face that was silently screaming "ARE YOU INSANE?", and for that moment, he wasn't really sure either. He had missed Hedwig immensely, unintentionally replaying her death scene in his head along with everyone else's. He thought he wouldn't own any familiar again—just as he would never have a godfather and a mentor again.

He left the tired owl to rest. There was nothing else to do but to browse through the television channels—fascinating, but for some reasons, he was not interested at the moment. He thought to make himself an omelet, until his eyes caught a dark, piece of metal in the back of the room.

The camera technically belonged to Renesmee, but Harry knew she wouldn't mind. In fact, she'd probably laughed imagining his reactions when he was finally sober. He pushed the button, and the camera presented him a rank of images that Harry knew he wouldn't exactly be pleased of.

There was a picture of George snickering, his face red, obviously drunk. Renesmee smiling broadly, a tint of rose in her cheek. It took Harry seconds to see that her gaze was focused on an unconscious Harry, far at the end of the table. A few of girls captivated in George's arms, while Renesmee had a photo of her with the bartender. The row of photos continued, filled with a selfie of George and Renesmee, with drunk Harry in-between. It seemed to be such a good time, and Harry partly regretted that he couldn't remember any of it.

He didn't stop browsing. The amount of the photos was huge, which Harry suspected was because of Renesmee. His smile remained on his face, projecting his fondness towards both of them, until it slightly faltered at the sight of blood dripping from George's mouth.

It was hard to identify the photo, because of the blur marring the quality of it, but it wasn't possible to mistaken that shade of red hair. He was lying on the ground in the ruins of a building. On the right upper side of the photo, the familiar, extravagant sign stood with only one wire left.

Harry froze.

He didn't like the sickening feeling that suddenly dragged his stomach. He tried to suppress his anxiety, trying to reason with himself that there was no possibility that some kind of vital event had happened and he didn't remember any of it. There were always plausible reasons for the bruises on his knuckles. He could have fallen and hurt himself badly. George could've thrown a spell in his drunk state causing the sign to fall down, causing a havoc and he was confronted by the owner of the bar.

Before any of these reasons managed to convince him, he had run.

It wasn't hard to find Renesmee when he put his effort to it. He had always known her location, and with a dread in his chest, he disapparated to the front of a foreign muggle hospital. He refused to think as he walked, because it was useless. Soon, he would meet Renesmee and she would laugh at his face, telling him that it was a misunderstanding.

The moment Harry stepped into room 217, Renesmee turned to see him. She was smiling, but Harry knew her better to know there was something beneath it. He wanted to demand the story she promised him, until his eyes locked with the figure of unconscious, bandaged George on the bed.

"What happened?" His tone was flat.

"How come you—Oh, right. The watch," Renesmee pursed her lips. "He's fine. The doctor couldn't find anything wrong with it. He probably fainted, you know, the amount of drinks the goof had.."

"Don't lie to me," His voice sounded harsher. Renesmee's eyes rounded a bit. "The truth."

"What makes you think something happened?" Renesmee stood, her eyes challenging him. "It was just another wild night. George had too much drink than his poor stomach was able to withstand. It was pretty common—"

"STOP IT!" He exploded. Anger clouded his vision intensely, that he could not think anything but to know the truth. "I HATE IT WHEN PEOPLE HIDE SOMETHING FROM ME, ESPECIALLY IT WAS _ME _THAT WAS THE ONE CAPTURED AT THE CENTER OF IT!"

The hurt on Renesmee's face acted like a whip on his face. Taking a deep breath, he found the nearest seat and threw himself on it. He was over-reacting. He could get the information civilly—_Stop acting so immature, Harry._

"I'm sorry," He muttered. "It's just a little confusing."

If there was anything that Renesmee used to cover her emotions, it was lifted now. She looked like she was about to cry, and for a moment, Harry truly despised himself for his little outburst. But before he could speak, she darted forward to sit on the chair next to him.

The silence was dragging him down, and Harry turned to peek at her face—only to find she was staring at him all the time, biting her lip, as if puzzling over something. Then her right hand touched his face.

His vision shifted. It was unstoppable—the moment she touched him, an alarming image invaded his mind. It was an image of himself, standing between the ruins. His raven hair moved gently—not because of the wind, rather because of the force on his hands—while he stepped closer, his eyes _glowing._

He was gasping when he found himself back into the hospital. George was still on the bed, his breath steady. On his side, Renesmee was still locking her eyes on him.

"What was _that_?"

"I told you I have a gift," Renesmee told him impatiently. "I could show people my thoughts and memories. You want to know, don't you?"

"Y-yeah," Harry managed to say. Did he want to know? Did he really want to confirm that something vile had happened because of his hands? "Show me."

This time he prepared himself as Renesmee's hand held his face again. He was back in her memories. The clarity of the image was abysmal, defined to the very details of the most insignificant things. This time, he saw his memory self shaking slightly at the bar. He could hear Renesmee's "Harry?", but she was nowhere to be found. It took him a second to understand that this, was in fact Renesmee's memories and he was nothing but an outsider taking a look in it.

The memory Harry suddenly raged. The bar had collapsed by his human hands that had pulled the ceilings with disquieting ease. He was about to lunge at the bartender until the camera shifted, and suddenly Harry was battling against himself.

The poor bartender wasn't his only target. The memory Harry went from a human to another human, growling ruthlessly every time Renesmee prevented his actions. A frail woman. A child. Nothing seemed to faze him. There was an eerie tint of darkness in his glowing eyes. Everything seemed too absurd to Harry as the watcher—one of his kick had caused a hole in the ground. One simple punch and Harry was sent flying, and the camera refused to move. It altered slightly when George came into sight. The memory Harry snarled at him with no hesitation.

It was an outstanding battle, but the winner had been decided from the beginning. Harry watched helplessly, as George was about to get a blow from the monster. The camera diverted again, until he was suddenly in front of the ginger, blood dropping to the solid ground.

Another battle almost ensued until Renesmee's hands twisted the monster and threw him off the ocean. The camera moved again, and this time, the sight of the dark ocean welcomed him. Renesmee's hand was on his neck, forcing him back deeper while the monster struggled endlessly. Then, every feature of him relaxed. The monster's soulless eyes dimmed.

And he was back into reality.

He was gasping for breath. He didn't dare to look at his partner. All his eyes could comprehend was the sight of his own hands, with purple bruise on their every finger.

How close was George to death? If a punch to Renesmee caused her to be immobile, what would a blow do to George? What _did _it doto him? He saw the amount of blood streaming down George's stomach. _How could he survive?_

He wanted to punch himself—there was nothing greater than the anger that he projected inward. It twisted his insides, boiling his blood. If earlier all he could see was red, now all his eyes could catch was darkness. He was disgusted with the glint that was burning in his glowing eyes. He felt consumed—tainted. It was the exact feeling roaming in his heart in fifth year. Sirius' death. Voldemort's invasion. Renesmee's immobile state—because of his hands. Fred had died. And George almost met his twins—all because of his hands.

"Harry," Renesmee's voice sounded far away. "Harry, look at me."

He didn't want to. He didn't trust himself—let alone look at her in the eye. What would happen if something in him suddenly took over? In this state, he wasn't even sure this was his own body anymore. He felt trapped, and he didn't want any visitors. He was a convict that had the strength to hurt the only visitors that cared about his well-being.

"Harry," Her tone was soft, but on edge. "None of it was your fault. It was something else—you couldn't control it. It wasn't your fault."

Control. It had always been one thing he was lacking. He had the charisma. He had the power. He had the determination. But it was always control that messed his plans up. The lack of control murdered his godfather. The lack of control gave his nemesis the power over his body. And this day, the lack of control had brought Renesmee and Fred to the brink of death.

"George is safe. I am safe. George has passed the dangerous state and he's now safely asleep. He should wake up in days. And there's not even a scar on me."

"I'm sorry," Harry finally managed to say. "Merlin. God, I'm so sorry. What have I done? How could I—"

She frantically replied, "No, it's not. Okay? None of it is your fault—"

"It is my fault," His tone went an octave higher. "STOP THIS! Stop telling me otherwise. Everyone always tells me it's not my fault, but I know in their heads they're blaming me. How can you say it's not my fault? I've seen through it _your _eyes. Those were the eyes of a _monster_. It was easy. It was so easy to kill you _and _George that one more minute and both of you would've ended up _dead_. How is _that _not my fault?"

"Yes, we could've died. But we didn't," A tear escaped her eyes. It acted like poison to him, stabbing his chest with every tear falling. "You were not in control. Both of us were unprepared. We know nothing of this, for god's sake, it started with a bottle of whiskey! Please, Harry, he's safe. I'm safe. There wasn't even any death. Stop—stop that. Please."

Harry didn't say anything. He couldn't. The clutch on his throat made it very hard to breathe, let alone speak. Renesmee was clinging at his front shirt as if it was a life line, and reluctantly, he put his arms around her. Her eyes were all red, her innocence brimming behind those chocolate orbs. Of course she would believe he was blameless. When he said _everyone_, he knew from the start that it didn't include her. The sensation was overwhelming, and in a side, humiliating. It was like baring his tinted soul in front of her, and she was embracing him with tears on her face, earnestly believing in him.

The silence stretched on. Harry made no effort to break it. There was something soothing in listening to her sobs, in the warmth of her arms. It could very well be an hour when she finally spoke.

"Are you okay?"

"No," He saw no point in lying to her. "Not really."

"Oh, Harry," She whispered. "It'll be okay. I'll make sure of it."

Of course she would. There was no doubt in Harry's mind when she told him she _would _do something. _So optimistic. _He wasn't the only one in pain. He saw through her eyes. He knew everything she did to hold him back.

"How.." He began. "How did George survive?"

Her expression turned into worry. "It's.. something I wanted to discuss with you, actually."

"I'm all ears," He told her, leaning against the chair. He felt very tired.

"The moment you came to your senses," Harry cringed at the choice of words. "I had to drag you up to the ground. George was dying—there was so much blood. I could listen his heartbeat getting weaker every second. I was confused. And desperate. I knew nothing of magical healing, and you were still unconscious. I debated if I should just give him every healing potion you've got, or take him to a muggle hospital. The chance for him to live was low for both options. I was getting desperate, and the aurors had arrived at the main gate.

"But there was a wizard. I didn't hear him approaching, so I was guarded. He wore a black robe with that covered his face in shadows, though I could still see his face. He offered his help, but he couldn't do it here because of the auror's arrival. It would get us all trouble, so he offered his cottage back at the northern part of Halu'iowa."

Renesmee rubbed her temples. "There were no other options. The aurors sounded nearer and nearer, so we rushed to hide in his cottage. It turned out he was an official healer in town. He gave George a lot of potions, a lot of spells. His heartbeat was getting steadier. When George passed the critical point, he moved to heal some of your injuries. When he's done, he practically kicked me out of his house. I didn't even get to say thank you, nevermind his name."

Harry murmured, "Then you came to the muggle world, rode the bike past the ocean and arrived at California."

"Exactly," Renesmee nodded. "I got George into the nearest hospital I could find. Then I realized I couldn't have you sleeping on the floor, so I checked into the hotel, only a couple blocks away."

Harry raked a frustrated hand through his disheveled hair. "That's bloody fucked up."

"Yeah," She sighed. Then she stopped talking, before spinning to see his expression, looking a little unsure. "You better yet?"

"I wouldn't say _fine_", Harry answered. "But it was much better than an hour ago."

Both of them sat next to George. Mostly, they stayed quiet, studying his sleeping face. There was something that connected him with George after the war. It might be Fred's death, but Harry wasn't really sure. George had always been an important person, but now he almost rivaled Ron's position when it came to brothers. And now, looking at him, knowing that he almost lost him, made the clutch on his heart tightened.

Renesmee squeezed his hand. There was nothing he could do that would properly express his gratitude at the moment. So all he did was smiling at her, a hint of sadness lingering in his eyes. She smiled back, encouraging him in a way words couldn't.

Absent-mindedly, he wondered about the mystery healer. He didn't know if the healer was someone to be feared of, but perhaps it was best to stay more alert from now on.

_And research, _Harry's eyes hardened. _I've got a lot of research to do._

* * *

Two days had passed until George finally awoke. Harry who earlier insisted to stay in the hospital room—Renesmee finally got him to agree to spend the night at the hotel—darted to the hospital as soon as he heard the news. Even with a pale face, George managed to croak a few crude jokes, which amused neither Harry nor Renesmee. He sulked a bit, but after six days had passed and actually improved his condition, the doctor told them that he was permitted to leave.

George stayed in the hotel room for a few days. It was relieving to see him so healthy after thinking that he might not make it. Mostly, they spent the day looking at the photos, even making some more on Renesmee's request. The television was also a great source of entertainment for George, who could not be silenced while watching Sci-fi movies. Renesmee joined into George's laughter sometimes, but Harry still stayed quiet on the back of the room. She also appeared smug when Shinji didn't seem to like George either—proving Harry that she was not the problem. Her smile faltered when Harry only rolled his eyes. It was depressing to see him acting like this—blaming himself for something he had no power over.

When George told them they were leaving, Harry more-or-less freaked out.

"What?" Under Renesmee's and George's stare, he coughed. "I mean, why?"

George apparently found Harry's reaction amusing. "I'm healed, mate. I'm really grateful for everything both of you have done. It's kind of funny, really. I didn't expect to meet you, nevermind meeting this pretty little girl here," He ignored Renesmee's snort. "It was a blast. Mad, if you ask me. But I have a plan, you know. That night we met, I actually planned to go back to French."

Harry seemed pained. He deliberated, before finally dropping his shoulders, resigned. "I see. You're welcome here—well not here—anytime, Forge."

George strode across the room to hug Harry. "Listen—mate, nothing of it is your fault. I don't know what's going to happen, but I'll do some research in France. Told 'Mione yet?"

"No, I haven't," Harry shook his head. "I'm afraid she might overreact."

"Tell her," George advised seriously. "You probably wouldn't survive if she wasn't around. She's your best friend."

"I know."

George grinned, before moving to Renesmee. He wriggled his eyebrows. "You're sure you won't come with me to France, fair lady?"

Renesmee bit back a laugh. "No, I don't think so."

"A shame," George sighed. "Well, I guess I'll see you around. Take care, you two!"

And he was gone.

Renesmee expected Harry to fall into some sort of depression, but it turned around that he was just fine. The first days of George's leaving, both of them spent their time reading books in Harry's backpack. All of the books had been read, and there was no such information about Harry's condition. Harry was reluctant, but finally agreed to Renesmee persuasion to see around. He was visibly jubilant when Renesmee took him to several muggle restaurants, especially when he tasted a plate of Sautéed Prawns. Slowly, a genuine smile returned to his face. Soon, he was already back to his usual safe, while he kept on browsing the TV channels with a bowl of Mac and Cheese in hand.

This time, they were yet on another dinner at a restaurant. Dinner.

_Like a date._

Out of all her outfits, Renesmee had picked a sky-blue dress that she bought in Halu'iowa. It was nothing revealing, but she thought it would at least look great on her. She also had combed all of her long hair to the left side, baring her right side of her neck. Of course, the restaurant they picked wasn't any romantic place—since it was Harry who decided it. In fact, they could hardly hear each other because of the sound of joyful men's laughter.

"—I mean, Ron and Hermione used to bicker _a lot_," Harry shook his head in disbelief. "I've never thought they would end up together—wait, maybe I actually did. Ron cares deeply for Hermione, you know. He never said it out loud, but I've always known."

Renesmee gently ran a hand through her hair, trying to imitate Rosalie's enticing manner. A few men in the back of the room stopped laughing.

"I thought Hermione would go for Fred. I suspected she had a crush on him, you see. Well, she never dated anyone up until Viktor came along. Ron was mad—Renesmee? Are you okay?"

"Never better," She grumbled as she forced her head back up. "Please, continue."

Harry eyed her curiously, but he went on, "Hermione was also devastated by Fred's death, but of course, everyone was—"

"Fred?" Renesmee frowned. "Who's Fred?"

"You don't know? Oh—right," His face turned solemn. "Fred. George's twin."

"He has a twin," Renesmee's eyes rounded, immediately thinking of the double trouble. "But he's.. dead."

"Yeah," Harry's eyes were distant. "He died in the war. George's never been same since."

"That's.. sad," She whispered. "Losing a twin. That's like losing your other half."

That seemed like the wrong thing to say. Harry's eyes were fixed on the table, but Renesmee knew that his mind was elsewhere. She slapped his hand.

"Your dinner, by the way," She reminded him.

"Oh, yeah," Harry's face turned into delight. Renesmee hid a smile behind her hair. "This is really good. One of the best food I've ever tasted. By the way," He grinned. "You've never cooked anything for me."

Her eyebrows rose. "There was never a kitchen, we were busy eating local dishes, and you never asked!"

"I did. The first time we met, remember? You claimed to be a really good cook."

"Well, I am," She raised her chin up. "It's one of the perks of growing up with a bunch Vampires that have nothing to do."

"Your home seems like incredibly fun," His tone was tender.

"Of course," The corners of her mouth twitched. "The fun's never ending. Everyone's never got tired, so they use every passing minute teaching, playing, or joking with me."

"I—" But Harry's cell phone beat him to it. He excused himself to the front door of the room, mostly intending to get a clearer sound rather than for privacy. He was probably aware that Renesmee could hear him nonetheless.

"R-ron?" Harry sounded astonished.

"_Harry?" _A male voice asked, his voice coarse. _"I—I want to say I'm sorry.__Bloody hell, you don't deserve this. I'm sorry—but it's the truth. I'm really bad at this, and I feel so messed up right now, but I thought at least I wouldn't lie to you—"_

"Slow down, Ron," A hint of happiness in his voice. "I can't hear you properly."

"_I'm sorry," _Ron said again, this time clearer. _"I'm sorry for being a git, Harry. But the truth is—I'm calling you because I need your help. Merlin, some friend I am. If you're gonna hang up, that's fine. But I'm honest about how I feel—I really feel bad, Harry. I'm sorry—"_

"You're forgiven," This time the joy in his voice couldn't be missed. "And I'm sorry too."

"_Yeah—What?" _Ron sounded completely flabbergasted. _"You're not—I don't know—repulsed? I called you, I apologized, I asked for your help. Doesn't that disgust you?"_

"Hey, I neglected you for two years. Then hurt your sister. I didn't even allow you to come with me," Harry sighed softly. "I'm just as much as a git as you are."

There was no answer for seconds, until Ron chuckled. _"Of course you'll forgive me. Merlin, Harry. I'm sorry—"_

"Oh, cut it out already. You're in a rush, aren't you? What is it?"

The voice turned nervous. _"Er, you see.. It's.. Hermione. I'm planning to propose to her."_

"That's great!" Harry shouted. "Ron, that's great!"

"_Er, yeah," _It was easy to tell that Ron was blushing. "_But that's not the point. I'm planning a huge public proposal. In __Hogsmeade__. We're going to get married right then and __right __there."_

Harry was quiet for awhile. "That's brilliant, but have you asked her parents?"

"_Of course I have!" _Ron sounded offended. "_Mum's flipping, and I know everyone will agree. I'm going to make it magical. She deserves it. What I'm asking is—d-do you think she'd mind? Does she even want to marry me?"_

"Of course she does!" Harry let out a loud laugh. "She's been pestering me before I even went away!"

"_I-Is it true? Bloody hell. I think I'm having a fit now. Oh, you have to come home!" _Ron gushed excitedly. "_You're my best man!"_

"I'll murder you if I'm not," Harry deadpanned. "Of course I'll come! Right away. Give me one day."

_Wow, that was fast. _Renesmee had always wondered about Harry's hometown. She had visited the magical world of Japan and Hawaii so far. Both had amazed her, but Harry's hometown was entirely different story. She couldn't wait to see the Diagon Alley Harry kept on talking about. _Hogwarts. Gringotts_. And Harry's friends! While she was a tad worried for their reactions, she knew meeting them would be a blast.

_Does he even want you to come with him?_

Renesmee's shoulders slumped. Why did she think Harry would take her? This was his hometown. His oldest friend's wedding, with a chance to fix things with the redhead. He would be having the time of his life with familiar faces that had been with him through the years. She was nothing but an outsider.

_Oh, crap. Not now.._

Harry strode back into the room, looking as though as he had won a lottery. The grin on his face couldn't be any broader. Renesmee returned it with a smile, ignoring her heart sinking.

"Wedding!" Harry announced.

Renesmee grinned. "I heard. Congratulations, best man!"

"Wow," He sat down, abashed. "They're so young.."

"You sound like an old man, Harry."

"Home," His eyes danced, ignoring her. "Come on. We've got to unpack."

Her eyes widened. Hope began to fill in. "I'm.. coming?"

Harry turned at her, confused, before his eyes rounded in realization. His face turned tender, as he walked towards her and touched her hair. "How many times do I have to tell you?" His smile turned into an exasperated grimace. "You're coming with me."

Just like that, and she was lost in his dazzling eyes. A mere sentence, simple yet honest, lifted her from the sadness she was in. The words left her thinking, wondering, hoping for something that probably wasn't there in the first place. She didn't want to hope too much—but she did.

_Maybe, _it wasn't entirely a lost cause.

* * *

They were standing on the top of the hotel building, drowning in the heat. She was sitting on the ledge, staring at the view of the boisterous city. Meanwhile, Harry was muttering to himself while he was trying to figure out what was wrong with the motorcycle.

"No idea," Harry finally said. "I'll call Ron. Maybe he can ask Arthur."

Renesmee sighed. _If only Jacob was here. _Of course, there were times when she did miss her brother. She did want to see Jacob again—but not with the love-struck, dreamy eyes he stared her with when he confessed. She wanted to hug him, play with him—being the little sister he had always promised her of.

"Oh well," She jumped off the ledge. "I'm gonna fetch some ice cream. You want some?"

"Sure. Strawberry."

"Suits you," Renesmee laughed while Harry glared at her. "You think it'd be too much if I just jump down there?"

He pondered for a bit, before suddenly casting a spell at her. The purple glow illuminated her skin until it blended. "Muggles shouldn't be able to see you. It'll only last ten seconds, though."

"Thanks!" She called, before leaping off the ledge. She opened her arms wide, embracing the view of the ground that was appearing closer and closer by seconds. The citizens remained oblivious, and she held the excited screams back in her throat. Just before she met the road, she held out her right arm. Pushing it towards the road, she flipped back into a perfect standing position.

After remaining in an alley until she was visible again, she walked casually to the ice cream stand. The sour look on the owner turned into awe when she came into sight. She sighed, "One strawberry and one chocolate please."

The man stammered a little, and she patiently waited until he was done. When he refused the payment, she gave him a smile and a 'thanks'. He didn't know about the new cash on his pocket, though.

She licked her portion. It tasted good. It wasn't as good as Esme's, though..

"NESSIE!"

She froze for a ninth second, before spinning around. Of course she recognized the voice. But for a fraction of second, she desperately wished that her ears had fooled her. There, two hundred feet behind her, stood a huge, dark-haired man with a breathtaking blonde.

She didn't spend a second. She darted as far as possible, pumping her feet. She didn't know herself why she was running—she missed both of them immensely. But it didn't stop her from forcing her feet to jump from a wall to wall in an alley. In the next three seconds, she was already in a top of a building. She leapt for another one.

"Nessie—Please," Rosalie's gentle voice begged. "Don't run again."

There was nothing she could do but to stop. Emmet and Rosalie were standing in front of her, separated from her by a huge gap between the buildings. Both had the same forlorn expression—except it was strange to see it from Emmet's face.

"I-I'm sorry," Renesmee choke out. "I miss both of you. Everyone. So bad. But—"

"If it's about that mutt, we can work things out," Rosalie pleaded. "You know I've never agreed on it."

"It's not—it's not about Jacob anymore," Renesmee blurted out without thinking. Her eyes slightly rounded. _It was never about Jacob anymore_. "I found something.. important."

Before Rosalie could protest, she continued, "I won't be away forever," Her eyes went downcast. "It probably won't work anyway. Just please—give me time. I love you guys. I swear, I do."

"Nessie, the Volturi—"

"—doesn't have anything to arrest me anyway," She cut her softly. "Please. Trust me. I'm not a kid anymore."

Rosalie opened her mouth again, but whatever it was that she was going to say, Renesmee couldn't know because in the sky, a robust motorcycle dashed forward. She leapt to the side car without wasting a second, and the motorcycle dashed upward, only to stop mid-air, approximately thirty meters above the wide-eyed vampires.

Harry gave her an encouraging smile.

She shouted at the top of her lungs. "I LOVE YOU GUYS! TAKE CARE!"

Rosalie opened her mouth in protest, but this time Emmet cut her, "NESSIE!"

She stared at Emmet. His face was infuriatingly unreadable. "YEAH?"

"ARE YOU HAPPY?"

Renesmee stopped to study the look on both of their faces. The answer was definite, of course. It might be egoistical, but it was still her feelings. She would treasure it.

"HELL YEAH!"

Emmet's face broke into the same old grin he used to show her. Rosalie's lips twitched up, and Renesmee didn't have to look to be aware of the tears glistening in the blonde's hair.

The motorcycle scurried to the sky, while Renesmee kept waving her hand for the vampire couple. In a way, it broke her heart. Yet she was exceptionally happy, tears running down her cheeks. She knew they wanted her to be happy. That was the main reason she loved them—apart from being a family. There was understanding. Even with the occasional fight, it all ended with love and understanding.

She _would_ come home. When that day came, she would accept every punishment they would give her with open arms. But today, she rested her head against the pack of pillows, watching the bright sky with a broad smile on her face.

* * *

**See? I _can _update faster! Don't expect too much, though. School's starting tomorrow. My senior year! But it won't be another 2 months again. I promise.**

**Both the 9th and the 8th are still un-betaed. My beta is still unresponsive, and my friend (the one who usually check the plot out before it's updated) refuses to read it. I'm sorry for the delay before, and I hope this one makes it up!**

**Come on, guys. There are 453 people getting an email for the update! Please review. They make my day ;) I don't mind flames, but if you think this chapter (or the story in general) sucks, tell me _the reason_s.**

******Love it, hate it, couldn't care less, let me know!**


	10. Chapter 10 - The Moving Photograph

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**DISCLAIMER : I own nothing. Except the plot and some original characters.**

**Words : 5263**

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_Emmet's face broke into the same old grin he used to show her. Rosalie's lips twitched up, and Renesmee didn't have to look to be aware of the tears glistening in the blonde's hair._

_The motorcycle scurried to the sky, while Renesmee kept waving her hand for the vampire couple. In a way, it broke her heart. Yet she was exceptionally happy, tears running down her cheeks. She knew they wanted her to be happy. That was the main reason she loved them—apart from being a family. There was understanding. Even with the occasional fight, it all ended with love and understanding._

_She would come home. When that day came, she would accept every punishment they would give her with open arms. But today, she rested her head against the pack of pillows, watching the bright sky with a broad smile on her face._

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**Chapter 10 – The Moving Photograph**

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**HALUIOWA DESTROYED**

_The Hawaii's wizard town square was destroyed single-handedly by a girl in one night (04/23/12). According to the locals, it happened first to the Every-Drink-You-Want bar that was crushed approximately at 1.30 a.m. The officials immediately rushed to the location only to find thirteen buildings with heavy damage, although no casualties. _

_"It is unclear whether the girl is human," Head Auror Jordan Gerkins stated. "The aurors are still searching. Further information will be immediately reported."_

_However, a local—who refused to let his name printed—contradicted the officials by stating that there were two people that destroyed the heart of Haluiowa._

_"I saw it. There was a young man, and they were fighting."_

_Minister Lairstone also commented on this matter. "We urge the citizens to open their ears for news. As confusing as the event was, it is clear that we cannot let it happen again."_

_For more details, see pg 6._

Edward choked out, "Carlisle—"

"Yes, son," Carlisle said, equally horrified. "That's her."

"But how could she be there? It's protected by _their kind_," Edward hissed. "She shouldn't even be able to see it, let alone _destroy _it!"

The next second, Carlisle's study was packed with the addition of four Vampires. Every one of them had the similar confused and worried expression, but Bella's eyes were most frantic. They all questioned Edward's sentence non-verbally, even Bella, who had a dozen of questions lingering in her mind.

"Carlisle will tell you," Edward answered to them all, but his eyes focused on Bella. She relaxed a little.

"Are Emmet and Rose home yet?" Carlisle asked.

"No," Alice said. "I couldn't see them either."

Bella's face lit up slightly. "Could it be—"

"It could very well be a werewolf," Alice grimaced. "Sorry, Bella."

Bella smiled weakly. Esme rubbed her arms, while Carlisle cleared his throat to regain the attention.

"Actually, there is a new lead. Renesmee has been sighted."

A collective gasps filled the tense room. Relief was slowly shown in the Cullen's faces, except for Edward and Carlisle. Carlisle had the same kind smile, but there was a glint of worry in his eyes. On the other hand, Edward's face was as tense as a rock.

"On a newspaper," Edward stated flatly, taking the paper on Carlisle's desk and showed them. "Not a common newspaper."

Their surprised reaction was to be expected. Jasper snatched Alice's hand as if the newspaper was a nuclear bomb. Esme took a step back, covering her mouth. Bella's eyes widened, but she moved forward, running her fingers down on the moving photo of a bronze-haired girl kicking the whole front part of a building. It wasn't obvious to anyone else, but for the Cullens that had watched her everyday, they could tell in a single glance.

"What.. is.. this?" She choked.

"A newspaper from the wizarding world," Edward answered, ignoring the incredulous stares he was receiving. His eyes were solely on Bella, studying her reaction with his own nerve on edge.

Carlisle began, "I think we should start from the beginning—"

"Yes, you should," Jasper almost hissed, his eyes still narrowing into slits.

"Calm down, Jasper," Carlisle raised his hands in peace. Jasper hesitated, before his shoulders dropped, even though he was still holding Alice. Carlisle cleared his throat again. "Before we move to Renesmee, I think some of you have to be aware of the existence of wizards and witches first."

"Wizard?" Esme automatically repeated.

"At this point, I think I'll believe anything," Bella muttered.

"Wizards," Carlisle nodded. "And other mystical creatures; centaurs, giants, goblins, children of the moon, mermaids, unicorns—" Alice squealed at this, "—Wizards have their private community across the world. Their secret was wonderfully well-kept. Even Vampires couldn't see past the magic. I was one of the lucky Vampires—aside from Volturi and several others—to encounter one. It was when I was still travelling alone. In Hungary, I met a.. charming youth. His name is.. was Gellert. Gellert Grindelwald. He was only eighteen. But he had a brilliant mind. The first time we met, he asked me what it was like to have an immortality.."

The silence lingered. Carlisle continued, "We became acquaintances, I suppose. He claimed he didn't have friends. So bitter, and I thought that it was just a teenage phase, and maybe I could guide him. I even offered him immortality, " He chuckled humorlessly. "He explained to me everything there was about his world—how he would like to change it. There was an eerie glint in his eyes when he spoke about his ambitions. He was too dangerous, too obsessed with power. But I stayed. I listened to his stories. Until one day, he decided to depart for Scotland, and made me promise to never speak about that world once more."

No one broke the silence until Esme spoke softly, "And you kept it."

"Until this day," Carlisle gave her a thankful smile. "There's no way to keep it anymore. Days ago, when I contacted Alistair, I asked him to look.. _further. _He told me once he used to be a wizard, but lost his power when he was turned. He felt bad running away since I was his oldest friend—so he did search. Surprisingly, yesterday, he called me to meet him at Canada. He gave me this."

Everyone still seemed to be contemplating the information. Alice looked positively giddy. Jasper appeared curious, even though he did try to cover it. Esme was still concerned about Carlisle. Bella was deathly silent.

"Their world is supposed to keep the non-magicals away," Edward pressed. "If Renesmee could penetrate their magical barriers—"

"—then she's magical," Carlisle murmured. "Or with a wizard."

"I don't think she's magical," Bella shook her head. "Edward isn't a wizard. I'm obviously not."

"It's pretty common that a wizard is born from non-magical parents," Edward pointed out. "Besides, what would Renesmee be doing with a wizard?"

No one had an answer to that.

"But.. A whole new world," Alice said dreamily. "To think that we feel bored in Forks.."

"We need someone magical as a guide," Edward reminded. "And this is definitely not the time."

"I know, I know," Alice gushed. "But Unicorns, Edward! And mermaid!"

Carlisle warmed up seeing his daughter's antics. "Mermaids aren't like in the fairy tales—they're nasty, ugly creatures."

"I don't think we're on the right problem here," Bella cleared his throat. "Even if Nessie _is _magical or _is with _a wizard, why the hell would she destroy it?"

Edward opened his mouth to speak, but a voice invaded his mind.

_EDWARD! EDWARD! I FOUND HER!_

"Emmet,"Edward's eyes widened.

"What is it?" Jasper demanded.

But Jasper didn't need to ask, because Emmet and Rosalie were already storming into the room. Both of their faces looked happier than before; Emmet was grinning broadly while Rosalie smiled a little, eyes dancing.

"We found her in California," Emmet declared proudly.

Relief washed down every single face in the room, wiping their earlier frowns. Alice jumped into Jasper's arms. Esme sighed softly, her hand intertwined with Carlisle's. Bella—her eyes shining in tears—snuggled her head into Edward's chest.

"Well, where is she?" Jasper asked, searching behind Emmet's back.

"Gone," Emmet grinned, showing his dimples perfectly. "She flew away with a flying motorcycle! I love that kid!"

A few feral roars destroyed the relieved atmosphere. Edward bared his teeth to Emmet. _What the fuck?_

"W-what?" Bella choked, voicing everyone else's thoughts. "Why didn't you stop her? How could she ride on a _flying _motorcycle—"

"I think I'll explain it better," Rosalie elbowed Emmet's ribs. "We were going home from Arizona. We went through California, and we saw her on the street, buying ice creams. Emmet called after her. She ran," Rosalie sighed. "She was faster than I remembered. Maybe she's got Eddie's talents. We kept rushing towards her, until she jumped to the top of a building. We were separated by one huge gap that could easily be jumped off, but Nessie turned around. She said she missed us."

Both Bella and Esme sobbed. Edward rubbed her shoulders, but his mind was completely taken by the images of the encounter that Emmet was playing on his head.

"But she wanted to go. She promised she'll come back. When I asked her if it was about the mutt, she replied that 'it was never about that anymore'. She claimed she found something important."

"_Someone, _actually," Emmet guffawed. "She wasn't the one riding the bike! It was a guy! Man, she's in love!"

Alice squealed in Jasper's arms. Carlisle and Esme smiled to each other. Rosalie found Bella's eyes, and they shared a small—yet as joyful—smile.

It seemed like Edward was the only one with sense. "A guy? A wizard?"

Emmet and Rosalie looked equally confused at the term 'wizard'. After Carlisle replayed his speech, Emmet was as excited as a five years old while Rosalie looked positively thrilled.

"Never mind that," Edward pressed. "Tell me about this guy."

"Well, he's rather pale. His hair's black. Emerald eyes," Emmet shrugged. "I asked her if she's happy. She was _more _than happy. I've never seen her so.. _lively_."

"Well, this changes things," Carlisle interjected.

"But that's dangerous," Edward snapped. "A wizard. We don't even have any good plans for Volturi!"

"Oh, please," Emmet rolled his eyes. "She does nothing against the law. We can at least hold that to our ground."

Everyone else murmured their agreement. Edward growled, "She's not even fully mature yet! Are you telling me that we should let her with this foreign wizard? He could very well be as dangerous as Volturi!"

"You're her dad. Of course you're going to worry about a boy," Bella kissed his cheek softly. "Trust Nessie's judgement on this one. She managed to stay alive for two months. She's happy too."

Edward was flabbergasted by her casual response. "I-I thought you'd be the one disapproving this the most!"

"I want her to be happy, Edward," Her eyes turned to meet his. "I do feel bad about Jacob. But she's everything to us, remember? Besides, I understand her position. I went through the same with you."

Edward looked away. The others were already relieved, even excited, by the turn of events. Carlisle sent him an encouraging nod, but he knew that he was ecstatic too. Why couldn't they see it? The danger of the situation? The boy could very well be a dangerous psychopath. Besides, it had only been six years since the Volturi's visit, for God's sake. He hadn't been her father for very long. It was bizzare—it felt like yesterday when Renesmee was still snuggling in his arms.

Not answering Bella's call, he swallowed the growl on his throat, before running into the heavy forest with no direction.

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Unlike her mother, Renesmee didn't particularly despise rain. She found it to be relaxing, actually. It was the _green_, the boredom that drove her away from the town. She loved to see her skin shining under the sun, but rain always had a certain flavor that calmed her head.

Harry seemed to share her thoughts. He was humming a tune she didn't recognize. Possibly another one of Albus Dumbledore's. Harry was quite fond of his mentor; a surprising fact after what he had told her.

The motorcycle was covered in a flexible bubble coating, protecting the two from the heavy rain that bestowed from the sky. The bubble kept shivering as the water hit, appearing as if it would burst, but it didn't. Renesmee couldn't help but to glance worriedly every ten seconds, though—the book on her hand was a little too good to be wet.

They had been flying for hours. Harry liked her idea of auto-pilot, but he wasn't any where good enough to tinker the thing. _Well, he couldn't even fix a simple problem on the motorcycle earlier. _Harry glared at her for the comment, but she threw him a grin.

"So, Harry," Renesmee started as she took a picture of him. "What are you gonna do when you meet Ginny?"

A look of uncertainty flashed his face. "I don't know."

"Oh, come on," She pressed. "You've got to do better than that."

"That's not really helping," Harry rubbed his temples. "That certainly did _not _make me feel any better."

"Well, I'm not your personal mood-booster," Renesmee grinned. "Though I'm totally charming enough to be one."

"George's clearly rubbing on you," Harry rolled his eyes. "Hold on, this might be a bit rough."

The motorcycle took a sudden turn. It dove down, evading a group of clouds that looked darker than the others. The motorcycle swung around a skyscraper, as a thunder exploded from their earlier location, ringing violently in Renesmee's sensitive ears.

"Okay, that was scary," Renesmee breathed.

"Not for you," Harry said. "Thunders won't do much to you, invincible and all."

She eyed him incredulously. "Then _you _should be!"

"I've had a few close-calls to thunders before. Never nice, but it wasn't that scary to me anymore."

Renesmee rolled her eyes. "All hail the mighty Potter."

She expected him to huff, or glare. But he let out a pleasant laugh. Her eyes softened. "You really miss this Ronald Weasley, don't you?"

"You have no idea," Harry said. "He's the first friend I gained. Still on the top of the list, and always will be."

"Well, I don't really know about my list," Renesmee muttered. "I guess Seth would be my first friend. Leah's nasty, and the others are family."

"Isn't that Jacob your best-friend? I figured he'be on the top of the list."

"Jacob _is _my best friend," Renesmee shrugged. "But he's more than that. He's a brother. I have one dad, one mom, four grandparents, two uncle, two aunts, and one brother. Hell, Harry, he fed me with a bottle of milk once, while I was small enough to be in his arms."

Harry had a sly smile. "He'd want your mouth somewhere else, now."

The dark-haired young man earned a smack on the head by Renesmee, who looked a bit sick. "God, Harry. Maybe it's not a good thing that you're cheerful."

"Sorry, joking," Harry rubbed the back of his head, knowing full well that Renesmee was still glaring at him.

The next two hours, the two finally reached London. She couldn't really get any other impression than 'wet', since the thunder was still roaming in the sky, the street empty of any crowd. Harry told her that it was minutes until they arrived, and she couldn't help the building pit in her stomach. Unlike George, this is Ronald Weasley. The one that was furious at Harry for leaving his sister and refusing to take him along in the journey.

How will he react, seeing a foreign girl by his side?

Harry stopped the bike at the end of an empty lot, houses lining elegantly at both sides. He pulled out an umbrella and called her to walk together. She knew that the house they were going for was probably still two blocks away—but there was something in Harry's expression that restrained from asking why.

Drops of water spluttered at the contact of their shoes. The pair walked slowly. Harry didn't say anything as he looked as if deep in thoughts, and Renesmee knew better not to drag him out of it. Instead, she pulled out a camera and began to appreciate the scenery through the lens.

After what seemed to be eternity, Harry stopped. He stood right between two houses, staring at the merged wall of the two building, as if expecting something to happen.

"Harry Potter lives at Grimmauld Place number twelve, London."

Renesmee turned around to ask what he meant, but before she could, the building moved. The merged wall that combined Grimmauld Place number eleven and number thirteen slowly disintegrated, as if to fall apart, only to reveal another identical house. The three houses shook some more, before going still.

"I.. What.." was the witty comment from Renesmee's gaping mouth.

Harry seemed to enjoy this immensely. "Magic," He showed a row of pearly teeth as he held her right hand and dragged her inside.

'Haunted' seemed like a perfect word for this house. Aside from its elegant look, the house seemed too shadowed to live comfortably in. It had a dark tint marring the walls, ashes smearing the floor near the fireplace, even a couple of spiderweb in the corners of the room. Magical artifacts lied arbitrarily across the walls and cupboard, covered with dusts. Something about the house made her shiver inwardly.

"No offense, Harry. But your house doesn't look that good."

"Oh, I know," Harry suddenly had a sly smirk. "That's why you're helping me."

"What?" Renesmee turned around, flabbergasted. "You didn't tell me anything about this!"

"Lighten up. Ron's coming. We could clean the whole house in half an hour, with my magic and your insane speed."

"Yay," Renesmee grumbled. "I'm not going to clean those spiderwebs."

"Fair enough," Harry shrugged. He waved his wand to conjure a cleaning set in front of Renesmee, before wandering off to the rest of the house.

Harry was right, though. It didn't take them half an hour to clean everything; to be exact, twenty six minutes. While the house was still shadowed, it didn't so much emit a dark aura that made her shudder. A portrait of a mean-looking woman kept on shouting, but she shut up when Renesmee punched the wall next to her. Needless to say, the woman didn't say anything else until she had left the room.

Renesmee did her portion of the work faster, so she could watch Harry moving his wand to clean the house in a bizzare, yet fascinating way. The shattered glasses on the floor moved swiftly, rotating in the air before reforming into a stack of plates. Harry moved like a chapel master in a huge concert, his wand dancing in a steady rhythm. Things swirled across the room; torn papers, glasses, fabric, even liquid—Renesmee found it the most fascinating as the particles of water was floating—that stained the wallpaper.

It was at ten in the morning when they heard someone opening the front door. Renesmee was alarmed, but Harry kept silent, drawing his wand. When the guest revealed himself, Harry ran across the hallway to give him a crashing hug.

"Blimey, Harry!" The voice Renesmee recognized as Ronald Weasley said. "Your hug's nearly as bad as Hermione."

Ron had the same tall figure as Harry, but Harry was leaner. He had the same flaming hair as George's, though his forehead was covered with bangs that George lacked of. Aside from the long nose, she could clearly see the connection he had with George, and silently wondered how exactly Ginny Weasley looked like.

"You're earlier," Harry grinned. "That's something."

"I had nothing to do anyway. Hermione has a lot of paperwork.."

Ron had stopped talking when his blue eyes noticed her standing at the back of the room. Renesmee shifted uneasily.

"Er.. Who is this, Harry?"

"Renesmee Cullen," Harry answered. "She's my travelling companion."

Ron's eyes narrowed. "You refused us when we wanted to go with you," He whispered, his tone accusing, though Renesmee could hear him just fine. "Now there's a pretty girl wanting to go, you—"

"She saved my life, Ron," Harry said calmly. He didn't mention the fact that she almost killed him. "She has nowhere to go and I owe her my life."

Ron's eyes widened, but he managed to compose himself quickly. "Oh," He bit his lip. "I'm glad you're fine, mate."

"Nice to meet you," Renesmee offered when Harry smiled at Ron, hoping that she wouldn't look too nervous. "Harry talked so fondly of you."

"You did?" Ron turned to Harry, surprised. Then his eyes wandered back to her. "Nice to meet you too. Thanks. For his life, I mean."

Renesmee almost blurted out that she also almost ended his life, but she smiled instead. "It's the right thing to do."

There was a split second of awkward silence, but Ron quickly recovered after Harry asked the plan. Renesmee breathed a sigh of relief. Ron didn't seem too bad. After watching the gangly young man explaining the bits of the plan with barely contained excitement, she could understand why Harry was so fond of him.

"—her mum was tearing, but it's her dad that I was downright terrified of, y'see," Ron shuddered. "He was glaring at me for awhile. After I explained the plan, he softened, though. We shook hands—I think I did a pretty good job," Ron grinned proudly.

"One step closer, mate," Harry smiled. "So what is this plan?"

"So the whole proposing thing and the wedding will be at the Diagon Alley. I've decided against Hogsmeade," Ron said, a bit nervous now. "I've spoken to Kingsley, he was happy for me and 'Mione, he said—"

"Wouldn't that be an abuse of power?" Harry tried to cover his laugh. "Of course Kingsley would let you use the most crowded section of the Wizarding Britain for a private use!"

"Ah, well," Ron rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "It was a bit hard too. I almost thought he wouldn't let me—anyway. The family agreed to help putting up an extension charm at the intersection of Diagon Alley, Knockturn Alley and Mort Alley—you know, the grocery section? It's built last year, I think. I also have talked to several shop-keepers, they agreed. Except for the Potion's Ingredient shop owner who said he's going to Australia. So I've got the whole permission thing, but I still don't know how to run things."

Harry stared at him for a while. "You managed that by yourself?"

Ron's ears turned red. "Well, I—it's not that hard. It's still a long way to go."

"That's impressive, Ron," Harry told him seriously. Renesmee had a hunch that Ron had an insecurity issues.

"Yeah—thanks. The thing is I suck at decoration, or how Hermione would like things to go. Ginny was still in another advanced training for the next big game—she could only make it the day before the wedding."

"And you expect me to take care of the decoration?" Harry eyed him, disbelieving. "You know I'm rubbish at that sort of thing."

Ron opened his mouth to answer, but Renesmee spoke first. "I can help."

The two young men turned to her. Ron had a surprised look on his face, but Harry was elated. "Yes! She can help, Ron. She's got the thing for art—decoration, music, colors. She can help."

"Well, growing up with Alice and Rosalie in the house has some perks," She rolled her eyes fondly.

"You're sure?" Ron asked, his eyes wide with wonder. "You want to help?"

"Of course," Renesmee smiled, as she moved closer to the pair. "Just tell me how this Hermione is."

* * *

"Lanterns?"

"Lantern's great," Harry nodded. "Firework would be too much, though."

"Not like the one in Japan," Renesmee argued. "I saw the firework at Quidditch World Cup in 1994. That'll do."

Renesmee was wearing a red cloak that shadowed her face. It reminded him of a muggle tale, though he couldn't be so sure, due to Dudley's persistence of taking the book despite his dislike to , since it was impossible to charm his hair, Harry begrudgingly let Renesmee force him a pair of silver-framed sunglasses that matched with the black fedora. They were sitting on a small table in Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, carefully hidden by a rugged pillar at the end of the room. Ron decided to split, as he was planning to arrange some dancers from Fleur's connections.

Harry had not yet met any other one of his friends, except for Faunia—the Florean's daughter—that used to stare at him everytime her now deceased father gave Harry a free ice cream. He figured the Weasleys would be busy, since the three of them had planned a list in Grimmauld Place, and Ron immediately contacted them to compile the tasks.

"Muggle's music or wizard's?"

It was rather amusing that Renesmee applied the wizarding terms rather too well. "Muggle's. Hermione never really fancies the wizard's bands."

Renesmee beamed at this. She wrote a long list of muggle songs in the usual prompt way, and Harry had learned not to wonder if the ink would smear. Another minutes passed, and Renesmee looked proud with herself.

"Any spell that could broadcast the song? Like a huge speaker setting every corner of the room?"

Harry rubbed his chin. "Yes, I can work that out."

"Nice," Renesmee's hand blurred to write again. "So, we've got the music, decorations and schedule down. If Ron finishes his part, then we're clear, aside from the dress. Come on, Harry."

They ushered inside the Diagon Alley, and just like the first time, Renesmee still gaped openly at the sight of it. Harry would steal glances at her, just to watch that astonished look on her face. Her brown eyes were as bright as a child, full of wonder. The first time they visited the Diagon Alley as soon as Ron left, her excitement was barely contained as she moved from shop to shop, hardly maintaining human speed. The bookshop was her favorite, in which she bought a lot and put them all in Harry's backpack. This time, she dragged him inside Giselle Fontaine's Boutique, a new shop located next to Weasley Wizard Wheezes, much to the amusement of nearby crowd.

The shop was run by a young woman, probably around Harry's age, with dark hair and a flat look on her face. She barely looked welcoming to the customer, and gestured to the the end of the room when Renesmee asked for bridal gowns.

"I don't think that's a great way to start a shop," Harry commented. The shop was empty when they entered.

"I prefer this kind of owner," Renesmee said, much to Harry's surprise. "No fuss. Just great quality products, and these people are usually honest."

"You've got a point."

After a very long hour, Renesmee had dashed back from a huge lines of gowns and held two white in her hands. "Which one?"

"Er—both are beautiful," Harry supplied. To him, they appeared pretty much the same.

"Yeah, everything's beautiful for you," Renesmee huffed, clearly not taking Harry's opinion for consideration. "I think this one suits her best. It's elegant, but really close to a muggle's dress—a reminder of her home, don't you think?"

"Brilliant," Harry said, relieved that it was over. "Let's go, then."

"No way," Renesmee stopped his hand with unsurprising ease. "We've still got my dress to buy. What about your robe? When did you buy them?"

"In 1997—two years ago. I don't think I've grown much—"

"Nonsense," Renesmee dragged him to the male section. "Oh, come on, Harry. This is your best friend's wedding."

Her words had some effects, though Harry was still a bit resentful for being forced to try all of these robes. Only fifteen minutes roaming around, he was already resigned, and gave Renesmee full permission to pick whichever she thought would fit. She finally came back after another ten minutes, a black robe with silvery linings on hand. Begrudgingly, he admitted he liked it, to which Renesmee glowed.

Harry was wrong when he thought it was a very long time to wait. Renesmee took even longer, rummaging the gowns with a little too much enthusiasm. She went back and forth into the changing booth, her clothes changing rapidly that Harry had finally lost count already.

After what probably had been an hour, Harry tapped his right foot impatiently. "Just pick one—Merlin, it's not like it's _your _wedding."

Harry swallowed the urge to growl at Renesmee's laugh, and was ready to snap, when his cellphone rang. He abruptly left the room, pressing the receive call button without seeing who it was.

"Harry!" The voice of Hermione said. "How are you? It's been weeks, and I couldn't call you because of these mountains of paperwork.. The werewolves are finally responding to our call, you see—"

"Hello to you too, 'Mione," Harry laughed. "It's fine. I was a bit caught up either, Hawaii was a blast."

"Hawaii?" Hermione sounded amused. "Wasn't George there?"

"You knew? You didn't say anything!"

"Well, I forgot," Harry knew Hermione was rolling her eyes. "So how was it?"

"Not much," Harry lied easily. "The nightlife's crazy. I think I know why George liked it so much. Not as much as French, I figured. He kept speaking like a French tourist, especially with Renesmee around."

"Renesmee?"

Harry stopped. _Oh, bollocks. Ron had already found out._

"My travelling companion," Harry said. "She's running away from home, and saved my life on the process. She's been with me for months, now."

Hermione was quiet for awhile. "And you never mentioned this because..?"

"It never came up."

Shw was quiet again. Then a sigh. "Harry, I'm sure she's nice, but it's not really looking good for you.."

"Ginny?" Harry knew where Hermione was going, of course, but he wanted to be sure.

"Right. She might be upset."

"It's not anything like that," Harry insisted. "Me and Renesmee. I owe her my life. I'm sure Ginny'll understand."

Hermione asked again, "Is she pretty?"

"Well, yes—"

"Harry.."

"Look, I'll figure things out," Harry said. "Ginny will understand. She's nice, 'Mione. If you ever meet her, you'll like her."

"I guess," Hermione didn't sound too sure. "Just a warning, Harry."

"Thank you," Harry sighed. "So, what's with the werewolves?"

"Oh, they finally responded to our proposal!" Hermione gushed, and Harry smirked at the word 'proposal'. "After a year of dodging, one of them finally came out and went straight to the ministry. I'm still trying to figure the way to vampires, but it's hard, since they're _really _rare. You think you know where I can find them?"

"What? No. No, not really."

"I think so," Hermione sighed. "Imagine what will happen if the wizarding world can be united. We'll work our way to a better place."

"A mental note; if you ever aim to be the Minister of Magic, I'll vote for you right away," Harry laughed. "No, seriously. You should reconsider it."

"Well, maybe, years later," Hermione sounded pleased. "Oh, got to go. Bye, Harry."

"Bye."

After the phone call, Harry found himself truly appreciating the impending wedding day. He would be reunited with the world he loved, the friends he cared for, and watch the two of his best friends unite under a sacred vow. He would make everything run perfectly, just to relieve the tension from Ron's face, to see tears in Hermione's eyes, and Renesmee beaming proudly at her work.

When he re-entered the shop, Renesmee was still in the clothes booth, to which Harry rolled his eyes. The pile of the gowns that she rummaged earlier stood helplessly, and Harry thought doing a favor to the shop would be nice. He lifted his wand and with one flick, the gowns went back to their supposed places.

A pale hand dragged the curtain open, revealing Renesmee in a silvery dress. Harry stared.

"What do you think?"

The dress went down to her knees, modest enough, yet inviting. A darker shade of silver cloth hugged her slender waist. The upper part of the dress was only held by a pair of thin laces that laid softly on her creamy skin. Her bronze hair moved softly as she tilted her head, framing her beautiful face. Her eyes shone in jubilance, radiating the light to the rest of her being.

Harry couldn't understand how he didn't see it before.

"You look good."

Renesmee beamed, and this time, Harry was glad for the sunglasses, because his eyes refused to look away.

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**When I first walked into my senior year, that is definitely what I thought I prepared for. The school's much rougher than usual. I'm trying to update, and hopefully can get the next one faster. The next one's "The Wedding"! I'm sorry if some of you expect Chapter 10 to be the wedding, but seeing I have to write Cullen's reaction down, I won't have much space left for the wedding. Besides, I think Harry and Renesmee have to do a lot of preparation.**

**Mort Alley belongs to the story "Calculation" by Fringeperson. You might want to check it out, it's a brilliant one-shot.**

**By the way, a quick shameless self-advertising:**

**I made a Harry Potter video, and posted it in youtube. It's about the tale of three brothers and how it applied to Voldemort, Snape and Harry. If you're interested, click it :D /watch?v=iVAzMZTA0ns - paste that link after the usual youtube link. (www . youtube . com)**

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**P****lease review. They make my day ;) I don't mind flames, but if you think this chapter (or the story in general) sucks, tell me _the reason_s.**

**Love it, hate it, couldn't care less, let me know!**


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